Anything But Ordinary
by GoldenFlash22
Summary: Harry Potter has had to deal with a lot in his life, but things won't end with the death of Voldemort, as he'll find out. Here he deals with Auror training, relationships and a new mysterious and dangerous enemy. Read and review please!
1. The Engagement Party

-1 It was their engagement party, and he felt like he could hardly breathe.

Such a reaction isn't typical, as most people would probably be happy if their two best friends had gotten together and gotten engaged.

But not Harry Potter. Sure, he was happy enough that his two best friends had found love with each other. But as he looked at the couple, he couldn't help but to think what might have been if things had turned out differently.

He had gone out with other women. Cho had been a disaster. The relationship fell apart almost before it started because of her sadness and his guilt over Cedric's death, as well as her jealousy.

His relationship with Ginny had ended because they couldn't keep up with the crushing expectations of the Weasley family and all their friends. All of them had expected he and Ginny to get married and have loads of children to make a big happy Weasley family, which led to plenty of fights between the two about the direction of the relationship. They had broken up a year before, deciding they were better off as friends.

Then there were the relationships he'd had over the past six months. Nothing that was serious, more just serial dating with girls he had gone to Hogwarts with--Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Susan Bones. Those relationships hadn't been serious for a reason. They were just an excuse to keep his mind off of her.

_Her. _He couldn't help but to smile when he thought of her. She had been the one constant supporter in his life since his first year of Hogwarts. She had been the one to believe him when he said he hadn't entered the Triwizard Tournament in fourth year, even when Ron hadn't believed him. She had been the one to stick with him in the major search for the Horcruxes, even when Ron had left the group. And he had just been thinking of Cho's jealousy. Who had she been jealous of? Hermione. And when Krum had been after Hermione's affection during the Triwizard Tournament, who had he been jealous of? Harry.

Their friendship had always been something more than friendship, Harry now thought. The problem was that he hadn't realized this until after his relationship with Ginny had ended. By that time, Hermione and Ron's relationship had been in the "serious" stage and it was too late for him to do anything.

Yes, Ron and Hermione's relationship was going fine now, but it had been hard to stay near the two of them in the beginning. All the bickering, punctuated with them expecting Harry to take sides, had driven him insane. They drove him to spend so much time with Ginny that he and Ginny eventually got sick of spending time with each other. Perhaps that was another reason for the death of his and Ginny's relationship.

Now it was still hard to stay near Ron and Hermione because of their relationship, but for an entirely different reason. He had found himself longing for her recently, and he knew those were feelings that he wouldn't be able to hide if he spent time with the two of them, and that wasn't fair to the man who had been his best friend pretty much ever since they first met, nor was it fair to the girl he pined over. It was easy to hope for the bickering that defined Ron and Hermione's relationship to just become too much for them to bear, causing them to end the relationship; it was another thing entirely to actually harm the relationship himself with his feelings.

So Harry sat at a corner table with an untouched mug of butterbeer as he watched the happy scene unfold. He felt much like he had originally when he had learned Ron had become prefect instead of him. He plastered a smile onto his face as various former classmates and Weasley family members came over to talk to him, but when he was alone he brooded.

Harry Potter had always been a brooder. He had done a lot of it when he was growing up unloved in the Dursley household. He had done it even more in fifth year when he felt like he was all alone, even when surrounded by friends and what he considered to be family. But the past year had been his biggest brooding time yet.

Suddenly, Harry looked up with a start as he saw the object of his desire standing over the table. Hermione looked harried most of all, having spent most of the night around Ron's family members, particularly Molly. Harry smiled a bit. Mrs. Weasley had been smothering to him when he had been in a relationship with Ginny. She had been so much worse since she had found out about Ron and Hermione's engagement that Harry had feared Hermione would die of suffocation.

"Trying to escape?" he asked with a grin as he looked at Hermione, annoyed with himself that a sudden appearance of her lifted his mood so obviously.

"You have no idea," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I'd thought a night with family and friends would be relaxing, but, and I don't say this often, I was wrong."

"Well, if you've come here not to be seen, I think you've come to the right place," Harry said, gesturing to the other chair at the table. She sat down, warily glancing around her for any Weasley family members that might take advantage of her letting her guard down to seize her.

"If you're looking for a means to escape, there's a trapdoor under this table," Harry added, chuckling when she actually checked to see if there was. "Sorry, no trapdoor, but I do have my Invisibility Cloak if you fancy using that for a while," he said, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

She rolled her eyes at him again. "Very funny. But actually, this is the first time I've spoken with you tonight, it seems. You're not very talkative tonight--is anything wrong?"

Harry wanted to tell her that many things were wrong, including her being engaged to the wrong man. But he quickly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. "I'm just tired," he half-lied. "Training's getting rough."

"Yes, Ron's talked about that as well," Hermione said. "But you two chose to go into Auror training, didn't you? Besides, it's not like I've had it easy." Hermione had taken over the post of Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, as McGonagall had moved to the post of Headmistress. Despite all of her complaints, however, Harry knew Hermione loved her job.

"Don't give me that," Harry teased. "At least you get summers off."

"Yes, but as training goes on, you'll get to spend more time with Ron than I do," Hermione said, not noticing Harry close his eyes with an odd wistful expression on his face. "Besides, I don't really have summers off. Hogwarts doesn't exactly shut down over the summer, does it?"

"Well, you'll both have to find some time within your schedules for a wedding, I suppose," Harry said.

"Bloody hell, I came here hoping not to hear that word," a new voice said. Harry and Hermione looked up to see Ron, who wore a nervous expression on his face and whose clothes looked rather rumpled, as if he had just made a narrow escape. He Summoned a third chair and sat down, giving Hermione a kiss as he did so as Harry subtly averted his eyes. "All right, Harry?" he asked after he broke the kiss with Hermione.

"All right, Ron," Harry answered. "But what about you? You look as if you've just barely escaped Voldemort."

"Close," Ron said. "Hermione's father."

"Ron--" Hermione began warningly.

"Well, I can't help but to think that if he keeps treating me like this," Ron said. He turned to Harry. "He cornered me. Wanted to know what my plans were with his 'little girl,'" he said as Harry began to laugh.

"He's just being protective, Ron," Hermione said. "You know that."

"Too protective if you ask me," Ron mumbled, looking to Harry for support. Harry's eyes widened as he cast around in his mind for another topic to change the subject. He failed.

"I will not have this argument again," Hermione spat out. "I accept your family the way it is, and you had damn well better accept mine for the way it is." Harry's eyes widened more. Hermione never swore.

"My family?" Ron asked incredulously. "There's nothing wrong with my family. Is there, Harry?" he asked, looking again to his friend for support. Hermione also turned to Harry, her eyes narrowed in anger.

Harry gulped and decided to change the topic. "So, uh…how about the Cannons this year, Ron?" he asked rather lamely. His inner voice scolded him for being such a complete buffoon that he couldn't even come up with a cleverer way to get the two to stop arguing.

"Your family, mostly because of your mother, has been a complete pain in the arse ever since we got engaged," Hermione half-shouted, causing Harry to wince again at her tone and the fact that she had sworn _again. _He also hoped they would tone it down soon, before people attending the party began to stare. He cleared his throat, but Ron and Hermione were too busy glaring at each other to notice. He cleared his throat again. Still nothing. Harry began to lose his patience.

"Oi!" he finally shouted, causing Hermione and Ron to stop glaring at each other and look at him with puzzled looks on both their faces. "Will you two just _stop it? _You're giving me a bloody headache!"

Ron and Hermione stared at him, then each other. Harry continued. "It's your damn engagement party, why don't you act like it?" He sighed in frustration and annoyance. "These little petty arguments, that's all they are! Little and petty. Not to mention annoying to anyone listening to them."

"So we're annoying?" Ron asked, looking affronted. Harry, despite his fury, wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the question.

"No, you're not annoying, Ron," Harry said. "But these stupid arguments are."

"Harry, we're sorry if we annoy you," Hermione said. "But Ronald here doesn't understand--"

"Yes, Hermione, he does understand," Harry said. "He may have the emotional range of a teaspoon, but he's not stupid. He understands why your father is being protective, just as you understand why his mother is being smothering."

"Smothering?" Ron asked, sounding angry again. Harry gave him a look that clearly said, _Shut up. _Ron obliged, looking contrite. "I guess you're right, she is being smothering."

"And you're right, my dad is going a little too far with the protective gambit," Hermione said. "But I'm his only child, so he's bound to be protective."

"And I'm the youngest male in my family," Ron said. "My mother says I'm still her little boy."

"Little boy?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking. It was time for Ron and Hermione to glare again, this time at Harry. He chuckled. "Sorry. But what were you two planning on doing? Breaking up at your engagement party?" he asked, keeping his eyebrow raised.

"Not exactly--" Hermione began.

"Oh, come on," Harry said, joking now. "If it wasn't for me, you would be moving your things out of his flat right now. And then think of what would happen to me!"

"You?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, me!" Harry said, in a mock serious voice. "Do you know how hard it would be for me to find two new mates for the each of you? No other witch or wizard out there could possibly stand to be in a relationship with you, all this bickering you do. I have to marry you two off--it's better for my sanity."

"Well, the bickering does make it interesting," Ron said.

"And quite fun sometimes," Hermione added.

"You find that _fun?_" Harry asked.

"What? That last argument wasn't fun for you?" Ron asked. "It was for me."

"And for me," Hermione said.

"I think this proves it," Harry said authoritatively. "You two are absolutely, categorically, completely, mental." He grinned and his two best friends chuckled. He raised his glass. "To you two."

"To us three," Ron corrected. "And good old times being mental."

"Not to mention the good times to come," Hermione said.

"Hear, hear," Harry said, and the three clinked their glasses together.

The members of the trio had a good time that night, just like old times. But as Harry Apparated to his empty flat that night, he couldn't help thinking that while he was mostly happy for the couple, he couldn't shake his nagging feeling of jealousy.

He sighed as he sat down on his couch and picked up one of his training manuals. "Better study," he spoke into the emptiness. "Have to be ready for anything these days," he muttered, his mind on a possible test the next day.

He had no idea how right he would be…and not about a test, either.


	2. Who Needs the Boy Who Lived?

**A/N: I hope everyone who read the first chapter liked it. For those of you who read this, I really would appreciate a review after you're done reading. I know I like feedback. If you liked something, tell me what you liked. If you hated something, tell me what you hated. And if you have any suggestions, give them to me and I'll take them into account.**

**Chapter 1 featured brooding Harry, but I've planned to change the writing style as the story goes along, featuring less brooding and more action. But not to worry, H/Hr shippers, there will not be an end to Harry's feelings, and you'll see what becomes of that tricky H/Hr relationship as we go along.**

**But enough from me…on with the story!**

**Chapter 2: Who needs the Boy-Who-Lived?**

**Three months later **

Harry yawned as he limped home after a long night at training. He had spent the entire night in exhausting physical training, building up his endurance and physical strength. It really was a grueling part of training. Harry had thought physical training would be the easiest part of Auror training, but it was in fact the hardest for Harry, as he often felt ready to collapse when he got home following it. It was no different this morning. All Harry wanted to do was collapse into bed and sleep until he had to be back at headquarters early that afternoon.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he saw Hermione seated leaning against his door and holding a bag from the bakery down the street. She looked up as he approached.

"Hey," she said, waving the bag at him. "Thought you might like some breakfast." She got up as Harry approached his door, allowing him to unlock it.

Harry responded with a yawn as he got his key out of his pocket. He jiggled the key in the door, as he always had to do to open it, then pushed. The door swung open and he limped into the apartment, motioning for Hermione to follow him. She obliged, shutting the door after her.

"Well, aren't you just a bit of sunshine this morning!" Hermione said teasingly as Harry tossed his keys on the coffee table and went into his kitchen on the right. Hermione followed, still teasing. "You're almost worse than Ron. Almost. I surprised him like this last week and he grabbed the bag of pastries and left me outside. To your credit, you haven't done that. Yet."

A trace of a grin appeared on Harry's face at her teasing. "Sorry Hermione," he said, suppressing another yawn. "I'm just tired. It's been a long night."

"He speaks!" Hermione said, grinning wider. "Well, then how about this? You can go get a shower while I make some coffee. Provided you have some," she added as she looked through his mostly empty cabinets.

"Top cabinet to the left," Harry said. "I'll be right out."

Hermione shook her head as she looked around the empty kitchen that seemed to mirror the rest of the flat. As she heard the shower turn on, she decided to "investigate," or, in other words, snoop around a little bit.

The living room area was rather cozy-looking, but Hermione frowned as she surveyed it. For some reason, it just didn't seem like a place where a 20-year-old wizard would call home. It was tidy--perhaps too much so. While Ron's living room was a pigsty and always had been, Harry's looked more like he never used it. She strode over to the coffee table, which had a few books stacked neatly on top of each other, mostly books about Auror training.

The topmost book, however, had nothing to do with training--it was the well-worn photo album that Hagrid had given to Harry at the end of his first year filled with pictures of his parents. Hermione smiled sadly as she opened the album. It was unfair that someone as sweet as Harry had never gotten to know his parents, and it was unfair that his parents had never gotten the chance to see the great child they brought into the world grow up. Hermione closed the album and put it back neatly at the top of the stack of books. She turned around and surveyed the room again. To the left was the doorway that led to the kitchen. To the right was a hallway that led to other rooms. Hermione began to ponder. Should she go back to the kitchen and wait for Harry's shower to be finished or should she continue to snoop?

It was an easy decision. Hermione walked through the doorway on the right side and into the short, narrow hallway. At the end of the hall was a closed door underneath which she could see light shining. Using the brain that had enabled her to get top marks at Hogwarts all those years, Hermione ascertained that that room was the bathroom. "Great deductive reasoning there, Granger," she said, laughing quietly at herself. "You'd make a fine Auror." Halfway down the hallway were two doors, one on the left, one on the right, that were directly across from one another. Laughing at the simple design of the apartment, Hermione walked down the hallway towards the doors.

"Now, which one should I try first?" she murmured. She decided for the one on the right. Peeking inside, she saw Harry's bedroom, which looked more appropriate for someone their age than his living room, but still not exactly the bedroom one would expect to find a 20-year-old living in.

The room was again, mostly tidy, aside from the odd outfit strewn on the floor. Hermione stepped inside cautiously, not wanting to alert the karmic gods that she, Hermione Granger, was snooping around in her best friend's bedroom. Now she snorted in spite of herself. She had never been a believer in karma and the like, and now here she was worried about it.

She walked over to the bedside table and saw more training books, but also a photograph of the trio which Hermione realized had been taken first year. She looked at the three of them in the picture. Ron basically looked like a younger version of what he did now. She actually found it surprising that he really hadn't changed all that much over the years. He had the same tall but slender frame, even though he ate to his heart's desire. The hair, of course, was the same and so were the freckles. And the goofy grin on his face in this picture was almost an exact replica of the one he wore these days when goofing around with his friends.

Meanwhile, the Hermione in the picture was similar in some ways but different in others from the Hermione who looked at the picture now. Her bushy hair hadn't all gone away over the years, though it was considerably tamer now. Her eyes were the same brown. And she still had the same feelings for her friends as she did in this picture. She loved both of them. Of course, the biggest difference was in her smile, due to the fact that she still had her large front teeth at the time of this picture, but it was easy to see that the Hermione in the picture and the Hermione in Harry's room were the same person.

However, the third member of the trio had changed noticeably over the years, Hermione realized as she looked at the picture. Young Harry was grinning in the picture as he looked back and forth at his two friends, Hermione on his left and Ron on his right. Harry's looks were mainly the same--he looked like his father except for his mother's green eyes, which still hadn't changed--but the major difference between the two Harrys was almost intangible. Eleven-year-old Harry looked just that--eleven. At the time of this picture, he had recently beaten back Voldemort's quest for the Sorcerer's Stone, but he didn't look any worse the wear for his pains. That was before he had suffered greater loss than perhaps any person could imagine. He had lost his father's two best friends, each of whom had loved him like a son. He had lost the wizened old mentor who had taken him under his wing at 11 years old. He had lost classmates and friends, admirers and a man who had protected Harry even though he hated him.

Still Harry had pressed on. He defeated Tom Riddle in second year and killed the basilisk. He fought Voldemort and escaped not just once but twice, in fourth and fifth year. And he had killed Voldemort when all was said and done. But the wizarding world hadn't treated him nearly as well as he treated it. He was scoffed at in fifth year when he insisted (truthfully) that Voldemort had returned, and even after this was proved the wizarding world never truly apologized, something Hermione knew still rankled Harry inside. But perhaps the biggest injustice was that after everything Harry did, which included ultimately killing Voldemort, the wizarding world had seemed to forget him entirely. Sure there were the celebrations at first, but after the partying ended, nobody seemed to care about Harry anymore. While Harry would certainly never complain about this, as he hated attention in the first place, Hermione couldn't help but feel that the wizarding world had just used him.

Yes, there was a major difference between 11-year-old Harry and 20-year-old Harry. The Harry in the picture was happy. The Harry currently going through Auror training was not, and Hermione could tell. He had been beaten down by the world and just seemed to be weary all the time. She felt sorry for Harry because she and Ron had been wrapped up in each other for so long that they had basically ignored their best friend's suffering in silence.

Hermione brushed a tear away from her eye as she stepped out of Harry's room. She was done snooping. As she walked back down the hall towards the living room, she heard the water in the bathroom stop and decided to quicken her pace and head back into the kitchen. She sat down at the kitchen table and waited for him.

A brief time passed before Harry stepped into the kitchen and sat down at the table after pouring himself a cup of coffee. He slumped halfway forward and yawned.

Hermione found it difficult to suppress a smile. "Tired?" she asked.

"Tired doesn't begin to describe how I feel right now," Harry said. "It's been a long night."

"Auror training getting difficult?" Hermione said. "Ron won't even speak of it anymore. He claims even talking about it makes his body hurt."

"I don't blame him," Harry said. "We had physical training last night. A bunch of endurance tests. Running, obstacle courses, other sorts of exercises like that. And you have to improve your scores from the previous week the first time you try, or they make you keep doing the tests until you do."

Hermione widened her eyes in shock. "They really do that to everybody?" she asked.

"I'm not sure about everybody," Harry answered. "But me and the rest of my class got stuck with the worst instructor for physical training--Joe Fortune. He was some sort of insane fitness guru that sold his own line of witches' weight loss exercise tapes. Burn Your Bums Off or some rubbish like that."

"How'd he get into instructing Aurors?" Hermione asked nonchalantly. She wouldn't tell Harry or Ron of course, but she had received a set of Fortune's tapes from her old roommate Lavender Brown as an engagement present. Lavender hadn't been able to make the party but had sent the tapes along with a note that said, "After all, you have to fit into your wedding dress!" Hermione had rolled her eyes when she opened the gift--but she hadn't thrown the tapes away…yet.

"Oh, who knows," Harry said, gritting his teeth. "He probably batted his girly eyelashes at the witches in charge of hiring instructors. Maybe he promised them free extra classes. All I know is he's a git."

"Still, he is your instructor," Hermione said. "So it's no good to complain about him, really--you just have to grin and bear it. And maybe you're overreacting."

Harry snorted. "Unlikely. Everyone else in the class hates his guts too." He snorted again. "Well, almost everyone."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"Well, we do have a student from America who takes his word as gospel," Harry said. "Take a guess whether it's a male or female."

"I'm going to go with female," Hermione said.

"Good guess," Harry said. "No wonder you graduated with top marks. Her name is Brittany Edwards, and you'd better say her name right or else she'll throw a tantrum."

"You sound like you know from experience," Hermione said, trying not to let her amusement show.

"She tore poor Professor Evans, our defense instructor, a new one because he pronounced her name Britt-knee instead of Britt-a-knee," Harry said. "But maybe I'm being too nice about her. She's blond, dumb as a stick, spoiled, loud, gossipy, the list goes on and on. I'm sure you know the type."

"A Lavender type?" Hermione asked.

"Worse," Harry said. "At least Lavender was semi-quiet when we were in class. This girl never. Shuts. Up. Nobody in our group can stand her."

"Who else is in the group?" Hermione asked.

"A few people from the old D.A," Harry answered. "Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot. Dean Thomas from Gryffindor. Another transfer from the US named Russ Robinson who keeps to himself pretty much. And me, of course."

"And you all hate this Brittany girl?" Hermione asked.

"Hate isn't a strong enough word, actually," Harry said. "Loathe would be better. Despise is a good word too."

"Abhor?" Hermione asked.

"Excellent," Harry said.

The two spent the next several minutes coming up with new words to describe Harry and his classmates' "distaste" for this Brittany while munching on the pastries Hermione had brought. At last, Hermione changed the subject abruptly.

"Harry, are you happy?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked her, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well, it just seems like you're not happy," Hermione explained. "I mean, you throw yourself into training 100 percent, but does that actually make you happy?"

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Harry said, although he knew where she was heading, and it annoyed him. He didn't like it when people pried into his personal life--he never had, and Hermione knew that. So why was she doing it now?

"Think on it a second, Harry," she continued. "After you come home from training at night, or in the morning, what do you do? Do you go out at all, or do you just spend your time in your flat?"

"I'm usually exhausted after training," Harry said. "Not exactly the greatest condition to go out in."

"Bollocks," Hermione said sharply. "Ron is exhausted too, but he makes time for me and he would do the same for you, if you showed any inclination."

"What is this, a comparison between me and Ron?" Harry asked indignantly. "Because I'm sure I'm not interested in hearing that, as I'm sure I will come out on the short end."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione said, actually confused.

"Think about it," Harry said. "Fourth year, Ron complained about being overshadowed by me, because I was the Boy-Who-Lived. Well, I don't overshadow him anymore because the whole Voldemort thing is done, right? Who needs the Boy-Who-Lived anymore? It's me against him as people, comparing what we have actually accomplished in terms of life. Ron has a huge family who loves him, he has you who loves him, and he's training for what will be a successful career. Out of those three, the only one I have is the career. So compared with him, who's really the extraordinary one and who's the ordinary one?"

Hermione blinked. "Oh, Harry," she said softly. "You're anything but ordinary."

Harry cleared his throat, seeing that her eyes were misty. "Well, I mean, I don't want to complain about my life, because do I really have that right? But ever since I've seen people making a big deal about me being the Boy-Who-Lived, all I've wanted is to be an 'ordinary' person. Ron was always jealous of me, but I was always jealous of him. He wanted what I had, but I wanted what he had."

"But you can have--you do have--what he has," Hermione said intently, looking him in the eye. "You have people that love you--the Weasleys, including Ron, and me. And you've just stopped dating, for no apparent reason. Why not get back out there on the market? After all, I'm sure there will be a nice long queue to date you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said you wanted me to be happy."

"I do!" Hermione said.

"How does dating fit into that?" Harry asked, then grinned to show he was joking. "You see, she says she wants me to be happy, but she really wants me to be miserable. I can see right through you, you know." He laughed as Hermione playfully hit him on the shoulder. "All right, all right," he said. "I was just feeling sorry for myself more than anything."

"And here I was thinking I should actually beat some sense into you," Hermione said. "You got lucky, Potter."

Harry snorted. "You think you can take me, Granger?"

"I know I can," Hermione said, a challenge in her eyes.

"Whatever you say," Harry countered, turning his head and mouthing, _Yeah, Right._

"You don't sound convinced," Hermione said. "Should I convince you?"

"Perhaps some other time, when I'm not half-dead after physical training," Harry said. "Then you'll be sorry."

"I'm so scared of being taken down by the Boy-Who-Lived," Hermione said. "It's a good thing I'm going off to Hogwarts tomorrow. There's no safer place, remember?"

"Ah, that's tomorrow?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "Well, tell the little kiddies hello from the great Harry Potter, and tell them I said to get into as much mischief as they can."

"I knew there was a reason I was glad you didn't take the Defense job when McGonagall offered it to you," Hermione said. "Imagine--the son of James Potter, the famous Marauder, Harry Potter, who got into quite a bit of trouble himself in school, teaching children. What a crisis!"

"I didn't take the Defense job because I like job security," Harry said. "For all I knew, I would have been eaten by one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts."

"You needn't have worried," Hermione said. "They wouldn't have eaten you--they would have blown you up."

"Or worse, I could have been _expelled,_" Harry said, causing Hermione to hit him in the shoulder again. "Ow!" he said in mock pain, rubbing it.

"All right, I'll leave you to sleep," she said, getting up. "Good luck in training."

"Good luck with the little children," Harry said, rising as well and walking her toward the door. She opened the front door, then turned around, hugging Harry tightly.

"If you ever need someone to talk to," she said, "you know where I'll be." Harry nodded, and with a last look back at him, she left, closing the door softly behind her. For a long time afterward, Harry stood right where he was, looking at the door with the oddest expression on his face. Finally, with a sigh he went to his bedroom to get some rest before offensive training class began that afternoon.

_**Elsewhere**_

_He was up to his normal activities at that hour--namely, plotting. He had been lying low for over three years now, trying to come up with the perfect plan to take down that insolent Potter._

_Potter. Just the name itself was enough to make his insides boil with hate. The so-called Boy-Who-Lived had thought he had destroyed the Dark Arts when he had killed Voldemort, but the plotter knew better. "You can never kill evil," he said to himself, smirking as he read more of his ancient texts. _

_Voldemort had been foolish when he had attacked Potter when he was a baby, the plotter thought. He had known nothing about the boy--that was the fool's biggest mistake. When he had risen, the fool had been simply trying to regain his previous dominance and thought that killing the boy would bring people to fear him once more. But again he was foolish. He underestimated Potter again, and it led to the fool's death. No, the plotter wouldn't do the same thing._

_He would not underestimate Potter. He could belittle him, hate him, but he could not make the same mistake as Voldemort and underestimate him. So he had taken pains to discover as much about Potter as he possibly could. But he still wasn't satisfied, and the plotter didn't pursue his plots without being completely satisfied. He needed more information on Potter--not about his magical abilities, although more information about those could certainly never hurt. No, he needed to know about Potter as a person--what his loyalties were, what his strengths and weaknesses were as a person--what he could exploit. _

_The plotter had to get that information. He just had to find a way. But if there was a way, he would accomplish it. Just like Potter, the plotter had never failed._


	3. Jealousy

**A/N: I am so sorry about the delay in this chapter. I should probably let you know that I'm writing this story one chapter at a time, so every once in a while there may be a delay like this. I just started the new semester (first class was this week), so there will be certain points in the semester where I'll be super-busy, like any other college student. I hope you'll bear with me at those times. **

**Thanks for the reviews:**

**Anonymous9: Thanks for the sentiment, although I should warn you that it's dangerous to climb Mount Everest by yourself. Therefore, I'll come with you and we can tell HP lovers together about this story.**

**Viopathartic: Thanks for the review and for the anonymous reviews tip, and I think you'll find that the plotter will play quite a role in this one. I also love the R/Hr, then H/Hr stories because there are lots of complications I can throw in as an author, which are fun. Of course, such complications make it difficult to transform the relationship quickly, but I think you'll be pleased a smidgen with the end of this chapter. **

**Jarno: Thanks for the review! My personal Joe Fortune was a ninth-grade swimming teacher who, indeed, made us have to improve our swimming times each week for a good grade. Me not being a great swimmer, I of course struggled in that class. Though that teacher was a woman, she was my inspiration for Mr. Fortune.**

**Souunga: I appreciate the finality and am glad to have someone who will review my chapters faithfully. I don't plan on abandoning this story because I'm a much better writer than I used to be. It used to be that I'd run out of ideas, have a lack of reviews and pack a story in. It's not going to be the case with this one. I'm glad you also like the conversations--those are honestly what make the story take so long to write for me. Brooding people are easy to write--I could honestly do about 100 wpm of a brooding character, but those conversations are difficult. Again, thanks for the review!**

**Well, I think that's enough from me speech-wise, so I should just get back to the story. Remember to review--I read each and every one and take what is said into account!**

**Chapter 3: Jealousy**

After a few hours of much-needed rest, Harry woke up feeling refreshed and ready to begin offensive training that afternoon. He stretched as he sat up in bed, remembering his meeting with Hermione that morning. It had certainly been an interesting one--first the joking, then the fighting and serious discussion that followed. Harry had been glad for the visit from Hermione, as he didn't see her often and always enjoyed doing things with her, even if it was just talking--she was easy to talk to.

But she had said some things this morning that Harry knew in his heart to be true. He hadn't visited with his friends Ron and Hermione, but it was for an entirely different reason than Hermione seemed to think--it wasn't an unintentional neglect, more of an intentional one.

What could he say? It was hard to see Hermione all the time with the way he felt about her. And it could be even harder to see Ron often, because Ron had what Harry truly, deeply wanted: Hermione. Harry remembered her hugging him this morning. At the time he had never wanted her to let go. But she did, and Harry knew why--she didn't love him, she loved Ron.

Harry sighed as he got out of bed. No, he couldn't have Hermione--she was engaged to his best friend, and she didn't love him anyway. But maybe he would heed some of her advice and put himself back on the dating market.

**Auror headquarters, that afternoon**

Harry yawned as he looked at his watch. It was 2:55, and the class was set to begin in five minutes. As usual, he had been the first to arrive, taking his usual route to the visitor's entrance of the Ministry of Magic. As the students in Auror training were not yet official employees of the Ministry of Magic, they still had to use the visitor's entrance. Not that this was a problem for Harry--it had become almost second-nature to him to use the visitor's entrance ever since he had been tried by the Wizengamot for underage magic in fifth year.

He picked idly at a stray thread on his black Ministry-issued robes as he waited for his classmates to arrive. The first to do so was Russ Robinson, who had gone to school in the U.S. but had come to England for his career, or so it was thought. The truth was that nobody in the class really knew much about Robinson, as he always sat by himself in the back corner of the classroom, silently taking notes from the professors' lectures. But he was good at spell work, Harry knew, as in hands-on training Russ had even given him some trouble when the two were paired up together. Harry nodded at Russ as he walked in, and received a slight inclination of the head in return. '_Well, that's pretty good from him, actually,' _Harry thought.

Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot were the next two to enter, waving at Harry as they did so. Harry waved back at them. He remembered Tony and Terry from Dumbledore's Army and from being in Ravenclaw in his year, but he had never really gotten the chance to know them back then. He had gotten the chance to know them better since they had learned they were in the same training group. He had learned that Terry and Tony had been inspired to join Auror training from being in the D.A. Terry was almost as shy as Robinson, except around his best friend Tony. Harry still didn't know them as well as he could, but he liked what he did know about them.

As Terry sat down in front of Harry and Tony on Terry's left, Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott walked into the classroom. Harry liked both of them, even though Ernie could still be a little bit pompous at times. It had actually become quite a running joke within the group, with Ernie sheepishly admitting that he knew he was pompous but couldn't help himself sometimes. Hannah was quiet, though not shy. She liked to talk, but people had to lean in to hear her. Ernie sat down behind Harry and Hannah sat to his left, as the last member of their little clique, Dean Thomas, came in.

Dean and Harry had grown quite close since they had learned they were in the same training class together. Harry had always liked the artistic, if somewhat quiet, Dean during their years at Hogwarts, but he hadn't exactly been best friends with him. He had had Ron and Dean had had Seamus. But now they were close, perhaps almost out of necessity than of any other reason. The two had known each other more than they had known their other classmates, so they had volunteered to partner with each other when they got the opportunity to. Dean liked to joke with Harry that the two were members of "The Ginny Weasley Ex-Boyfriend Club." Harry was actually glad that Dean could joke about it, because he had started dating Ginny so soon after her and Dean's breakup.

One minute till three. The door swung open again, and Harry rolled his eyes as the last member of the class walked in, chewing gum loudly. Harry thought that Brittany Edwards was probably the most annoying person to ever have walked the planet. He knew she was the most annoying person he had ever met. _I'd honestly rather have a cup of tea with Voldemort than I would with her,_ Harry thought. Sometimes he wished he could meet her parents so he could smack them.

Harry smirked to himself about this thought and checked his watch again, seeing the second hand tick towards 3:00. Their instructor would be here any second now…

"Good afternoon, class!" said their instructor for offensive combat training, a retired Auror with short gray hair. At the first class, Harry had recognized the man immediately from fifth year. Dawlish had been one of the Aurors sent to Hogwarts the night Dumbledore's Army had been discovered by Umbridge and had tried to arrest Dumbledore. At first, Harry had wondered why Dawlish was an instructor based on what had happened that night, but since then, the retired Auror had proven to be an excellent instructor. Still, Harry, remembering the ease with which Dumbledore had incapacitated Dawlish that night, was glad that Dawlish was their offensive combat instructor instead of their defensive combat instructor. He grinned at the memory.

"First of all, class, it is necessary that I tell you that this will be your final training lesson," Dawlish said in his unusually gruff voice. Harry and the others looked at each other in surprise as Dawlish continued. "Next Friday will be your Auror exam, and you will be given the next week off to prepare. Do _not _take this exam lightly, because only those students who score highly on the test will be initiated into the Auror service. Study everything and be prepared for anything." He nodded grimly at the class, which now looked rather nervous at the prospect of taking the exam.

"And enough about that," Dawlish said. "Today we will be covering a very powerful spell. This spell is one that is to be used only in the most dire circumstances possible." A buzz went through the seven trainees at this. Robinson raised his hand and Dawlish nodded at him. "Yes?"

"Sir, a spell to be used in only dire circumstances?" Robinson asked in his relative monotone. "Is it an Unforgivable?" The rest of the class, Harry included, looked anxiously at the retired Auror.

"No, it is not," Dawlish said impatiently. "Unforgivables have not been permitted for Auror use since the first rise of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, when Crouch authorized their use. The Shacklebolt Ministry does not believe in killing or physically torturing suspects--it believes in capturing them."

Boot raised his hand. Dawlish nodded at him. "Then, sir, if it's not a spell to kill or torture a suspect, what does it do?"

Dawlish sighed. "Given that we went through Stunning Spells our first week here, I assume you all are familiar with them?" The seven trainees nodded. "Well, Stunners are fine if it is a one-on-one battle. But what if you find yourself ambushed by five or six dark wizards? There was a time when that was possible, during You-Know-Who's first rise, when Death Eaters far outnumbered Aurors and other wizards for the light side."

"But sir, what does that have to do with this spell?" Ernie asked in his pompous tone of voice. Dean looked at Harry and raised an eyebrow. Harry did his best to make his snicker seem like a sneeze, but judging from the look he got from Ernie, he hadn't exactly succeeded.

"Think about it, Macmillan," Dawlish said rather sternly. "If you find yourself in a battle with five dark wizards by yourself, how many Stunners are you going to be able to get off before they successfully knock you out, or worse? One? Maybe, depending on who the five dark wizards are. Two? Unlikely. Three? That would be damn near impossible. So what can you do? Surrender?"

The seven students stared at him. Dawlish, growing increasingly animated, continued. "No, you can't surrender unless you're a bloody coward. But there is a spell that can help you: _Valde Vox._"

"_Valde Vox, _sir?" Robinson asked, raising his hand again. "What's that?"

"_Valde Vox _is a Stunning Spell, but it has power enough to knock out several opponents at once," Dawlish said gruffly. "Not only that, but once the spell is mastered, it's damn near impossible to be blocked, unlike regular Stunners."

Harry raised his hand next. Dawlish pointed at him. "Sir, if the spell is so powerful--" Harry began, then paused, contemplating his next choice of words. "You said it is to be used only if the numbers are extremely against you, but if it's so much more effective than a regular Stunner, why not use it instead of a regular Stunner?"

"Because the two spells are not interchangeable, Mr. Potter," Dawlish said. "How much power does a regular Stunner take? Not much, considering it is a spell to be used by one person on one more person. But because this spell is meant to be used by one person against several opponents, naturally it takes more out of a person. The caster can often find himself incapacitated by the mere effort of casting the spell. And an opponent can't be knocked out five times, so why waste all the extra power on just one opponent?" Harry nodded in understanding. "Now, are there any more questions?" There was no sound but that of Brittany snapping her gum.

Dawlish nodded. "All right then. Given that you will be undergoing your Auror exams next week, I think it makes sense for you to practice what you have learned in your three years. So I would like to organize a dueling tournament to take us until the end of class. I will pair you up for your first match-up. What happens from there will be up to you."

Harry scowled as he looked around the dueling space. Of the seven, Dawlish had paired him with _her. _He looked across the room at his dueling partner. Brittany was looking anything but ready to be dueling, instead twirling her hair around her wand and yawning. Harry sighed as he looked at the other pairs. Ernie was partnered with Terry, Robinson was partnered with Tony and Dean was taking on Hannah. He looked back at Brittany, who finally looked back.

"Begin!" Dawlish said.

The sound of incantations being spoken and the sight of many different colors of light filled the air. Harry reached out and caught Brittany's wand; he had hit her with the Disarming Spell before she had even opened her mouth to speak. He smiled to himself. _Maybe it really is unhealthy for her to keep her mouth shut,_ he thought. He looked around again and saw that the other duels were still going on. Hannah was giving Dean all he could handle, Ernie and Terry looked to be evenly matched and Tony was managing to block everything Robinson sent his way so far. Finally, Robinson managed to sneak a red bolt of light--a Stunner--that hit Tony before he could cast a Shield Charm. Robinson looked at Harry and nodded.

Before long, Ernie subdued Terry with a well-placed Stinging Hex before using the Disarming Charm, and Hannah surprised Dean with a Leg-Locker Curse. As Dean wobbled and fell to the ground, Dawlish declared her the winner.

Now Harry was facing Ernie, and he knew that the former Hufflepuff would give him significantly more trouble than Brittany had. They bowed to each other, and Dawlish cried, "Begin!" again in his gruff voice.

As Ernie opened his mouth, Harry cried out, "Protego!" and watched as Ernie's spell bounced harmlessly off his shield. He countered with an old favorite of his. "Rictusempra!" Ernie, who had opened his mouth to utter another spell, could now not do so because of his uncontrollable laughter.

Harry grinned. "Expelliarmus!" he said, catching Ernie's wand as it flew to him, then walking towards Ernie, muttering, "Finite Incantatem." Ernie's laughter stopped and he shook his head sheepishly at Harry as they shook hands.

As he shook hands with Ernie, Harry turned his head to the left to watch the battle between Robinson and Hannah. He didn't hold out much hope for Hannah. She was a terrific dueler, but Robinson was too much for her. He didn't even look like he was breaking a sweat as he casually blocked Hannah's jinxes and launched ferocious ones of his own her way. Thus far, she had managed to duck or block the ones he had thrown at her, but as far as Harry was concerned, it was only a matter of time before one would find its mark…

Sure enough, Robinson hit her with the Full Body Bind; Hannah went rigid and toppled to the floor. As Robinson strode toward her, he looked at Harry and nodded. Harry nodded back, not surprised that the dueling "tournament" would come down to this final pairing.

All three years, it had been clear to Harry that Robinson was very close to him ability-wise and might even be better. What was more discomforting to Harry was that Robinson was very aware of this fact, and it gave him a confident air every time he stepped into a duel against Harry.

Harry looked at him now. There was the confidence, etched so clearly into his face and so different from his usual expression, which was, Harry thought, devoid of emotion. He really couldn't remember seeing Robinson angry, nor could he recall seeing him happy. Or sad. Or scared. But he had seen him like this, and it was quite an unnerving expression.

He watched as Robinson took the spell off of Hannah and then strode so that he was across from Harry at the regulation dueling length away. He bowed, and Harry followed suit, not able to shake the feeling that this would be a rather long duel indeed.

He was right. The duel was seemingly taking forever, as everything the two threw at each other was blocked. Harry checked his watch as he dove away from two Stunners Robinson had fired in a row. Nearly an hour had passed, and yet neither of the two participants could find an edge. The trainees who had been eliminated were watching the duel intently, trying to learn from the best two duelers in the class. Except for Brittany. She was now blowing bubbles with her gum.

Another 15 minutes passed. Harry was starting to get desperate as he realized he had pretty much exhausted the number of spells that he knew. He racked his brain, trying to think of a spell Robinson wouldn't know, something he might not be expecting.

It came to him so suddenly that he couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it earlier. _Something he doesn't know. Something he isn't expecting._ He pointed his wand at Robinson, gave it an upward flick, and thought, _Levicorpus!_

It happened just as it had when Harry had first found out about the spell. Robinson, caught unaware and unable to hear the nonverbal spell, hadn't been able to block it and now hung upside down by his ankle. Moreover, his wand his slipped out of his grasp as the spell had taken him and now lay on the ground, beyond his helplessly groping hands. Harry said, "Accio," almost lazily, and caught the wand. _Liberacorpus!_ he thought, pointing the wand at Robinson, who crashed loudly onto the floor. Harry held out a hand to help him up, and Russ glowered at him as he gripped Harry's hand to pull himself up. As Robinson walked away, Harry smiled slightly and said, "Thanks Professor Snape," quietly.

"Well down, Potter!" Dawlish said as he walked over to grasp Harry's hand in a tight handshake. "That was some spell you used there. Do you mind me asking where you learned it?"

"Just at school, sir," Harry said vaguely. Dawlish didn't look completely satisfied with the answer, but he didn't pursue it any further, turning instead to the rest of the class.

"Right," the instructor said. "Remember that you don't have any class until the Auror exams next Friday. But don't forget what I told you. It is extremely important that you study for the exams, as your respective careers ride on how you perform. Do not take the tests lightly. Class dismissed." The sound of eight trainees shuffling toward the door filled the air.

Once outside, Ernie turned to the other five members of the little clique. "All right, I guess we should start studying…" Groans came from the other five, as Ernie raised an eyebrow. "Let me finish. We _should _start studying. I'm not sure about you all, but I don't want to."

Tony grinned. "You know, I think I actually agree with you, Ernie. Studying just isn't my number one priority for tonight."

Ernie grinned back. "You know, I think there are more enjoyable things for us to do tonight other than studying."

"Like what?" Terry asked.

"How about pretty much anything?" Dean asked, entering the conversation.

"Pub night?" Ernie asked the group. "I know you guys are in," he said, pointing to Tony and Dean, "but what about the rest of you?"

Terry shifted slightly. "Sounds fun to me," he said uncertainly.

"Hannah, you have to come," Ernie said. "I know you're a big fan of the club scene."

"You know me so well," Hannah said wryly, rolling her eyes but smiling. "I'll come, I suppose. Someone's got to keep you boys in line."

Everybody looked at Harry now, and he looked uncomfortable. "I don't know, guys--" he began. This was met with mutinous grumbling.

"Come on, Harry," Dean said. "After all, you won the tournament, so the first round's on you. It's the law." Ernie and Tony nodded solemnly.

Harry thought about it and considered again Hermione's advice from that morning about going out sometime. At last he smiled. "All right, I'll come. But I'm only buying the first round."

"We'll see about that," Ernie said.

Harry smiled. "By the way, aren't we going to invite the other two members of our class? I'm sure they would be great companions." He laughed and ducked as five quills came flying at him, having just left their owners' hands.

Later that night, Harry leaned back in his chair at the table in the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't exactly a "pub night," as Ernie had suggested, but the six were still having a good time. It wasn't often that Harry did this, but he resolved to do it more often.

"So, Auror exams," he said, deciding to broach the topic for the first time that evening. "What do you guys think?"

"I don't know," Terry said, frowning. "I'm not sure whether to expect a written exam or a hands-on one."

"Dawlish said to expect anything, didn't he?" Ernie asked, a pondering frown on his face as the others nodded. "So it could be absolutely anything and he can't say he didn't warn us about it."

"Talking shop?" asked a familiar dreamy voice. Harry looked up, surprised, and saw his old friend Luna Lovegood beaming at him.

"Luna!" he said, springing to his feet and giving her a hug. The others looked merely bemused, as they hadn't exactly been friends with "Loony" Lovegood in school. Of course, Luna had changed immensely since she had left school. She looked--

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed. "You look amazing!" So she did. Her hair was as white-blond as ever, but it was longer than what Harry remembered. She was wearing a navy blue dress, and--Harry did a double-take--she wasn't wearing her familiar radish earrings, opting instead for stars that sparkled silver, than gold.

"What?" Luna asked in her dreamy voice. "Oh, this," she said, blushing. "I had a business interview. I was meeting with someone who said she knows the deepest secrets of the Department of Mysteries."

"Really?" Harry asked, impressed. Luna had taken over most of the operation of the Quibbler following her graduation, and while she still did cover the odd Crumple-Horned Snorkack story, she had changed the magazine's normal procedure. Now the Quibbler was no longer looked at with disdain--Luna covered many stories that most journalists would be proud of.

"Yes, but unfortunately she exaggerated her knowledge a little too much," Luna said.

Harry grimaced. "How much?"

"Enough that not only do I still have the unsolved mystery of some of what goes on in the Department of Mysteries, but I have a new one as well," Luna said dryly. "The mystery of why I wasted my time in the first place."

"You could join us," Harry suggested. "We're procrastinating instead of studying for our Auror exams."

"Sounds like fun," Luna said, her wide eyes lighting up. The rest of Harry's companions didn't look entirely pleased with him inviting Luna to join their little party, but he didn't really care. _I could always duel them if they want it that way, _he thought, shrugging, as he drew a chair for Luna to sit down.

"So you're done with training?" Luna said, being met with nods around the table. "Is anybody worried about the exams?"

"No, not really," said Terry, who had been in the same house as Luna but had never really talked to her. "Why should we be?"

"Well, I've heard stories of bad things happening to some trainees during the exams," Luna said, turning her eyes on Terry. "Last year, three trainees died, two went mad, and one got Transfigured into a tree." Terry's eyes widened with alarm as Luna smiled sweetly at him. "Just kidding," she said.

Harry laughed at Luna's joke, but the most his companions could do was smile weakly at her. Luna leaned back in her chair and smiled at Harry. "So Harry," she said. "I didn't see you at Hermione and Ronald's engagement party. Weren't you there?"

Harry grimaced slightly. "I was there," he said. "Just kind of hid in a corner, though. I was pretty tired."

"I can't blame you for that," Luna said. "I have heard how difficult Auror training is from some people. But it wasn't just Hermione and Ron's engagement party. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time. I talked to Neville too, and he said the same thing. Have you been avoiding us?"

"No," Harry said. "At least not intentionally. I heard something similar from Hermione earlier today, and I'm sorry."

"I thought maybe you didn't want to be our friends anymore," Luna said. "I wouldn't have been surprised because it wouldn't have been the first time."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and meant it. "I will try better. In fact, I'll prove it to you. Would you like to come to King's Cross with me tomorrow? I mean to surprise Hermione before she boards the train for Hogwarts."

"She takes the train?" Luna asked, confused. "But surely she doesn't need to, being a professor?"

"Well, she conducts the prefects' meeting," Harry said. "Besides, she says she likes the train ride."

"Oh," Luna said, then smiled. "I'd love to come!"

"Great," Harry said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

**The next day**

King's Cross was as busy on September 1st as he remembered it being from his own school days. Still, Harry felt happy to be here on what was actually a pleasant morning. He looked at his watch and saw it was 10:30, when he was supposed to meet Luna. He looked around for her and jumped when he was tapped on the left shoulder.

It was Luna. She looked bemusedly at him as she said, "Aren't you supposed to be training to be an Auror?"

"You, erm…surprised me," Harry said, slightly embarrassed.

Luna raised her blond eyebrows. "I see." Today she was dressed more casually in black slacks and a blue top, with her hair pulled back instead of down like the previous night. "Shall we?" she asked, gesturing to the wall between platforms nine and 10.

"We shall," Harry said gallantly, holding out his arm. Luna laughed and linked her arm with his, and that was how they walked through the wall to Platform 9 ¾.

There was the Hogwarts Express, as scarlet and huge as it had been when Harry had first boarded it at the age of 11. There were the students, the older ones looking excited for a new year at Hogwarts, others (Harry guessed they were first years) looking apprehensive.

Harry scanned the crowd and spotted Hermione, standing next to Ron as she surveyed the crowd of students. Gesturing that way, Harry and Luna made their way toward their friends. Ron grinned as he spotted them first and nudged Hermione, who looked surprised to see Harry with Luna.

"What are you two doing here?" Ron asked as the two of them drew close. "Not that I'm complaining. It's been a while."

"We decided to surprise you," Harry said in explanation, speaking mostly to Hermione, who hadn't spoken yet. She looked up, then down again, her brow furrowed in what looked like deep thought.

"How have you been, Luna?" Ron asked, breaking a short awkward silence.

"Great," Luna said. "The Quibbler's never been selling better. Daddy's so pleased--he's always wanted to see his vision rewarded, and it finally has been."

"Not only that, but did you see the article last issue about the Shacklebolt Ministry?" Harry asked. "Luna really did a great job on that one."

"I must have missed it," Ron said. "I'll have to read it, though," he added, swatting at Harry when his cough sounded very much like, "Yeah, right."

"Anyway, I met up with Luna last night at the Three Broomsticks, and she really wanted to see you guys," Harry said. Hermione, who still hadn't spoken, smiled thinly.

"So you act as the teacher escort for the train, Hermione?" Luna asked, hoping to elicit a response from the brown-haired girl.

"Yes," Hermione said, shaking herself out of her reverie. "And I should probably get to my duties. These students should get on board."

"All right," Ron said, looking at Hermione as if she had grown two heads. "Well, have a good term, I guess. I'll try to visit when I can."

"Only if it works for you," Hermione said, turning to Harry and Luna. "Harry, Luna," she said, "I'd like it for you two to keep in touch. With me," she added hastily. Receiving two confused nods in return, she said briskly, "Well, then. Take care, all of you," and marched off, leaving two confused friends and a confused fiancee in her wake.

As Hermione walked away, she heard Ron say to Harry and Luna, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure what got into her." She didn't hear the response: she was deep in thought.

What had gotten into her? After all, she had been the one to tell Harry to start dating other people. She just wasn't expecting him to show up the next day dating Luna.

She wasn't even sure he was dating Luna, Hermione realized as she half-heartedly ushered the students toward the train. So perhaps she had nothing to worry about.

Then again, why should she be worried in the first place? Luna was a good friend of hers and would be a good potential match for Harry. But she had honestly never imagined Harry with Luna before, and she wasn't sure she liked the thought of it now.

But why didn't she? And why hadn't she liked Harry with any of his other girlfriends? Well, she couldn't be blamed if she hadn't approved of Harry's dating habits in the past six months because they couldn't really be called relationships.

Ginny was another matter. For some reason, she had never liked Harry with Ginny, and she didn't know why. Ginny was probably her best friend, and she had made Harry happy, but she had never really liked the two of them together for some reason. Why hadn't she?

_Isn't it obvious? _a singsong voice in her head asked. _You were jealous. You are jealous now._

Hermione shook her head, annoyed. _I'm not jealous. Why would I be? I want Harry to be happy, like I am._

_Are you? _the voice asked her.

_Of course I am,_ Hermione thought as she ushered the latecomers onto the train, then began to have doubts.

"Am I?" she asked herself softly.


	4. Auror exams

-1**A/N: Again, sorry for the slight delay in the posting of this chapter. It was another busy week of classes, and so I really couldn't find much time to write.**

**However, I am beginning to get a little bit frustrated by the lack of reviews. Those of you who have reviewed I am grateful to, but I'm sure more than two people read the last chapter, and yet only two people reviewed.**

**Please review at the end of the chapter. It doesn't have to be a really in-depth review. Just give me some feedback--what you liked, what you didn't like, opinion of the story, suggestions. The review doesn't have to contain all of that, just one of the points would be good.**

**All right, enough preaching. Back to the story.**

**Chapter 4: Auror exams**

Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes as he tried to stay awake. It was only Monday and already he had grown weary of studying his texts for the Auror exams, mostly because the texts didn't do anything but teach theory. _What I really need is a partner to practice with,_ Harry thought. _Or some really strong coffee. _

As if on cue, someone knocked on his flat door. Harry frowned, wondering who it could be. He really wasn't expecting anybody.

Again the knock came, and Harry sighed, setting aside _Constant Vigilance: The Art of Being Defensively Aware, _by Mad-Eye Moody. He stood up and stretched, then walked toward the door, yawning again as he did so. He checked his watch: just after three in the afternoon, and again wondering who it could possibly be, he opened the door.

**"**About bloody time," the visitor said in greeting. "I've only been knocking for--I'm not even sure how long."

"Only about 30 seconds, Ron," Harry said, letting his best friend in. "And why are you here? I thought you would be studying for Auror exams."

"If I read another second now, my head will probably explode," Ron grumbled, taking a seat where Harry had just been on the couch and putting his feet up on the coffee table. Frowning, Harry perched himself in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. "I mean," Ron continued, "What exactly are these books teaching us? It's like Umbridge in fifth year."

Harry grimaced. "Thanks for bringing _her_ up," he said. "Even though I haven't eaten today, I still may vomit."

"You haven't eaten today?" Ron asked, looking horrified as Harry shrugged. "That's worse than Umbridge."

"I've just been studying today," Harry replied. "But I'm starting to think it's not as useful as Dawlish told us. I mean, how useful is knowing the theory of dueling when we're actually going out on raids and the like?"

Ron snorted. "Not at all, but that didn't stop the Ministry from assigning us Umbridge in fifth year for the one class where books weren't exactly useful. The Ministry's always been big on theory."

"But not under Shacklebolt," Harry said, frowning. "I find it hard to believe that he wouldn't at least change that after he got into office. He knows from experience how unimportant theory is as an Auror."

"True," Ron said, sitting up and taking his legs off of the coffee table. "But you know the impression I get of the exams? I get the feeling they're going to be like the O.W.L.s. Some practical and some theoretical."

"Listen to you," Harry said teasingly. "Practical? Theoretical? Did you eat an encyclopedia by accident?"

Ron made a face at him. "You know, Harry, I'm not a complete buffoon. I do have some intelligence." Harry thought he sounded rather hurt and regretted what he said.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean it like that." 

Ron shrugged. "I know you didn't, but it just stings sometimes. Now come on and stop your studying. I'm kidnapping you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Kidnapping me?"

"Yes. You've been studying for way too long. And not eating?" Ron said again, shaking his head. "It's a crime."

Harry smiled slightly. "All right, all right. We'll do dinner," he said, seeing Ron's face light up. "But I can tell you something I'm _not _going to do," he said as he stood up.

"What's that?" Ron asked as he too stood up.

"I am not going to put out," Harry said, ducking as Moody's book came suddenly flying toward his head and laughing.

"Come on, wanker," Ron said. "I'm hungry."

"All right," Harry said, and allowed himself to be basically dragged to The Leaky Cauldron by a clearly "famished" Ron.

_Elsewhere-Monday_

_The plotter was furious. His plan wasn't going very well at all. He still didn't know any more about Potter than what he had already known. Of course, Potter was all over reference books, but reference books weren't useful for what the plotter wanted to know. He wanted to know things that would never be in a reference book._

_He had done some spying lately. Just that night he had watched Potter and his wretched "best friend" Weasley dining at The Leaky Cauldron, but those two hadn't noticed a thing. _Some Aurors they'll be,_ the plotter thought with a snort._

_Of course, the plotter had always been good at spying on people, so he really couldn't blame the two idiots for not noticing him. He usually was able to blend into the background without being noticed at all. The plotter was invisible even when he wasn't trying to be._

_Of course, that was one of the things that he was most bitter about. He was a far better wizard than just about anybody, he thought. He wasn't arrogant enough to assert he was the most powerful wizard ever, like the fool Voldemort had done, at least not yet. Let the world decide that for itself when he finally did act upon his plan, he thought._

_But even though he would not proclaim himself to be the top wizard, the plotter knew that, at most, there were a handful of people who could best him in a duel. And yet people overlooked him, and it made his insides boil with hate. That Potter could be noticed even when doing something that deserved no notice, but nobody could recognize some of the truly great things he had done, that was why the plotter was planning this._

_The world would find out soon enough, he thought. It would know how powerful he was when he took down that phony Potter, once and for all._

_The plotter sighed and organized his research, putting it away once it was in a neat pile. He would need to find another way. _

**Thursday**

Harry was growing more anxious by the day for the Auror exams. Now that it was the day before, he was feeling as stressed as he surmised Hermione might have been for final exams in their Hogwarts years.

He couldn't shake off the nervous feeling that he was going to fail the exams and then he would be out of luck. Being an Auror had been his dream since Moody (rather, Crouch, Jr.) had suggested it to him in fourth year. Despite the fact that it had been a Death Eater who had suggested this particular career to him, Harry had overlooked it because it was his dream. And what would happen if he were to fail the exam? He would have wasted the past six or seven years on the mere dream of an ideal career. He would have wasted his three years since leaving Hogwarts on training.

And what could he possibly do with his career if he didn't pass his Auror exam? There was always Quidditch, but Harry hadn't played a real match since his sixth year of Hogwarts, and he wasn't sure he really would be fulfilled playing Quidditch professionally. Then there was the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, which McGonagall had offered to him right after Hogwarts. But he had refused, and the position was now filled by what Hermione described as a highly competent professor. So that option was out as well.

It was being an Auror or nothing as far as Harry was concerned, which was what made the exams so terrifying for him. He had studied more in the past week than he had done in his seven years at Hogwarts combined.

He had also tried to take his mind off of the exams by going out a couple of nights that week. Ron and he had gone out to eat Monday, and the previous night Harry had gone to dinner with Luna Lovegood.

Luna. Ron had teased him about dating Luna the other night, and Harry had blushed profusely and mumbled something under his breath. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure whether he and Luna were a couple or not. Of course, _The Daily Prophet_ had made the inference that the two were dating, as it had run an article in the gossip column about it, along with a photo of their dinner the night before, with him and Luna looking rather cozy together at the restaurant in Diagon Alley he had taken her to. The caption read: _The Boy-Who-Loved?_ Harry had rolled his eyes when he had seen it.

He wasn't sure either whether he wanted him and Luna to be a couple. He had always liked her, although he had thought her rather insane at first. She was one of the few students at Hogwarts who wasn't overwhelmed with his fame, which Harry rather liked. She had always been able to make him smile, make him laugh, and he remembered the instances when he had had surges of affection for her, at the end of fifth year when she had told him about her mother and during his search for the Horcruxes when he had seen the mural in her bedroom. Plus there had been their "date" to Slughorn's party in sixth year.

But it was complicated. He didn't want to ruin his friendship with Luna the way that his friendship with Ginny had been following his breakup with her. And then there was Hermione. Harry still hadn't figured out the reason for her odd behavior on the 1st of September, but he knew how he felt about her. He wasn't sure how fair it would be to Luna to date her while he was hung up on another woman. But it had been Hermione's advice for him to start dating.

He was as confused and unsure about pursuing a relationship with Luna as he was about the Auror exams the next day. He would have to make a decision, though--he didn't want to leave Luna hanging while he sorted out his issues.

He sighed and picked up _The Psychology of Dark Wizards_, the textbook he had been most interested in during his years of training. It was really a fascinating study of how dark wizards thought, written by a Muggle-born who had interviewed many dark wizards over the years. Now Harry looked down at the cover and frowned. It would be a long night of studying.

**Friday **

Harry had felt nervous for his first Quidditch match. He had felt nervous for the

O.W.L.s. He had felt nervous for his Occlumency lessons with Snape. But never had he felt as nervous as he did right now.

He didn't even know how he had managed to get to Auror headquarters. The entire trip on the Underground had been basically a blur to him, and he had had a hard time stating his purpose for a Ministry visit at the phone booth. Now he stood in line by the door of the room where the test was supposed to take place along with the other 15 trainees from his class and the other one. Ron stood in line behind him. Harry had greeted him as cheerfully as possible when the redhead had arrived, but his best friend had just stammered an unintelligible response, so Harry had thought it would be better not to disturb him.

He felt bad for Ron. His best friend was currently so pale that even his many freckles had seemed to fade. Ron had always been more of a nervous person than Harry. Harry remembered all too well the way Ron had been before his first Quidditch match, and he seemed to be in almost the exact same state of mind right now.

Harry looked over his shoulder now. It wasn't just Ron and him who were nervous. Everybody in the two training classes looked like they would rather be anyplace than where they were at the moment. Even Brittany looked like she was nervous for the test, which surprised Harry, for he hadn't thought she even cared about becoming an Auror.

Well, almost everybody looked nervous. Russ Robinson's face looked utterly impassive, no fear (or any other emotion) showing at all. Harry blinked, somewhat impressed with his rival's seeming confidence.

A creaking noise made Harry turn around. The door had swung open by itself, inviting the trainees to enter the room. Harry swallowed hard, trying to ignore what felt like a boulder lodged in his throat, and stepped forward.

**Later**

Harry frowned as he answered another question. So far, he thought he was doing pretty well, but that wasn't the reason for his frown.

He had expected this exam to be the most difficult one he had ever taken. Clearly everyone else in the class had as well, judging from the way they had looked standing out in the hall before.

And yet…it wasn't. Not at all, really.

Sure, it was difficult, but it didn't feel like it was difficult enough to have a certain number of trainees fail. Harry remembered the statistics from the first day of class, three years ago. Dawlish had told Harry's class that less than half of the Auror trainees would ultimately make the cut. The Auror who set the test, who had since left, had echoed Dawlish's words. Harry didn't see how.

Truthfully, the exam thus far wasn't any more difficult than the written examinations from the O.W.L.s. Harry looked down at the next problem and saw that it was another question he knew the answer to. He dipped his quill in the ink bottle and scratched out the answer…

…Just as the right wall of the classroom, the one with the door, _exploded._ Harry felt the blast from where he was sitting, a good 20 feet from the wall. He noticed that several students had been knocked to the ground, and a couple of them weren't moving.

Harry sprang to his feet, wand in hand, noticing other trainees around the room doing the same thing. He nodded grimly at Ron, who nodded back, all nervousness now forgotten in the face of what had just happened.

He looked around now, seeing who else seemed to be ready for the fight. Robinson was clutching his wand rather tightly, it seemed to Harry--his knuckles were white. Ernie, Terry and Dean were standing close to each other, all three of them looking ready to fight. There were some students from Ron's group also on their feet, as well as Hannah and, to Harry's surprise, Brittany, who looked determined.

Realizing he didn't count 16 trainees, Harry looked and saw that three still on the ground unmoving near the blast area. He didn't recognize one and figured that he was probably in Ron's class, but he recognized the other two.

Tony Goldstein was crumpled at the foot of a desk. He had probably been thrown and hit his head on the desk because of the explosion. Susan Bones, who must have been in Ron's training class, was just feet away from Tony, her arm twisted at an unnatural angle. Harry grimaced. This was _not _good.

He had accomplished this surveying of the room in less than a minute, but it had felt like an hour to him. Now he looked back at Robinson, the two rivals now being allies. Emerald green eyes met icy blue, and Robinson nodded, moving toward the door. His comrades followed.

When Robinson got to the door, he peered out into the hallway and quickly ducked his head back into the room, motioning to Harry as he did so. Harry half-walked, half-ran to the door and looked out. What he saw did not make the twisting feeling in his stomach go away.

Chaos. That was the best term for what existed in the hallway. Bodies of Aurors who Harry hadn't even known were out there were strewn on the floor. A large crater marked the spot where the explosion had gone off. Alarmed, Harry brought his head back inside the classroom and looked at Robinson. Russ looked like he felt the same way Harry did.

Now Harry looked at the man whom he didn't know very well. "What should we do?" he quietly asked the American, who now looked alarmed that Harry was leaving the decision up to him.

"Only one thing we can do." Robinson's answer was almost as quiet as Harry's question. "We have to help." Harry nodded at this, then turned to the rest of the trainees.

"Listen up, everyone," Harry said, surprised his voice was coming out loud and clear rather than shaky, which was what he had expected. "Something is happening out there. Something bad. I know I can't sit back and let whatever it is that's happening happen. I have to do something about it." He paused, looking out at the rest of the trainees, some of whom looked frightened, others who looked back at him with determined looks in their eyes. Harry took a deep breath and continued.

"Nobody is ordering you to come with us," he said, gesturing to himself and Robinson. "But if any of you want to, we'd very much appreciate it," he said, then grimaced at the rather lame way he had ended his speech. He looked down now, wondering how many would join.

When he looked up, he had his answer. Nearly everyone had stepped forward, aside from a witch from Ron's training class who Harry didn't recognize. Harry looked at her, and she looked back with fear in her eyes.

"All right, then," Robinson said, looking at the girl with disgust written on his usually-blank features. "You can stay with those who were knocked out. Unless you're too afraid to do that, too." He didn't receive a response, and he snorted with contempt, turning to the rest of the two classes. "Let's go," he said.

As Harry turned to follow the trainees who were now filing silently into the hall, he became aware of someone standing next to him. He turned, seeing his best friend.

"Here we go again, right?" Ron asked him, an eyebrow raised.

"It never ends, does it?" Harry asked in response.

Ron shrugged. "Would you really want it to? It would make life rather dull, in my opinion."

Harry answered with a slight grin. "I guess so," he said. "Personally, though, I would somewhat prefer a dull life."

Ron snorted. "Never gonna happen, mate. The world would end if it did." He stuck out his hand, and Harry clasped it, shaking his best friend's hand firmly.

"Let's go," Harry said, echoing Robinson from earlier and getting his feet moving toward the door.

The Boy-Who-Lived walked into the hallway of chaos and his best friend followed him, just as he always had.

Just as he always would.

_The plotter was having a hard time suppressing a grin. It had taken a lot of time and a lot of planning, but his plan was looking good. He would take a lot of people by surprise when the plan would come to fruition, and people would finally recognize him for the powerful wizard he was._

_And Potter? The plotter smirked at the thought of his rival. Potter wouldn't know what hit him when it happened. And people would realize that the Boy-Who-Lived was really nothing._

_The plotter raked a hand through his hair. It was time. _


	5. Inside the Maze

**A/N: All right, I'm a dirty, rotten person. It's been three weeks now since the last chapter, and I've just now completed this one. Let me tell you that living without a computer is a trying experience, especially when you're in college like me.**

**But I can say that perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, as this chapter is very different than the one I had first written. That's a good thing because I wasn't fond of the original chapter--it was disjointed, lacked suspense and character and really wasn't the type of writing that I'm proud of. This chapter was written much better, and I think the extra time that I had to plan it out helped a great deal.**

**Anyway, I know my one loyal reader/reviewer, Souunga, is worried that the plotter's identity is very obvious. Do let me tell you that the identity of the plotter will not be obvious, and there will be a twist within the story about his or her identity. As far as Robinson goes, one of the things I added when I rewrote this chapter was a portion told from his point-of-view, and I think it is a very useful look into the complicated mind of our Russ Robinson.**

**Anyway, stay tuned after the chapter for an important author's note. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I hope you'll drop me a review when it's over. I read each and every one.**

**Chapter 5: Inside the Maze**

The best word Harry could think of for what was occurring in the hallway was mayhem — total mayhem. He had stepped outside with his best friend just behind him, and now he surveyed the damage for the second time.

Once again, he took in the sight of the many Auror bodies crumpled on the floor and of the large crater in the middle of the floor. He didn't even want to think what spell it had been to cause such damage, and how many dark wizards were currently loose in the building.

He looked at Robinson again, who turned and stared back with wide eyes. Harry strode toward the American, who met him halfway. In low voices, they talked about the situation.

"What do we do?" Robinson asked. "I've never been involved in something like this before."

"I have," Harry said. "Too many times."

"So you know what to do, right?" Robinson asked anxiously. Harry frowned, not liking the almost-scared tone of Robinson's voice, and equally disliking the fact that the duty of being leader seemed to have been thrown on his shoulders once again. He sighed.

"Yes, I know what to do," he said, running a hand through his messy hair. "And so should you, by the way. The best wizards never show fear…never."

He turned now to the rest of the group. "Okay, here's what we're going to do," he said, mentally counting the number of wizards there were again. "We are going to split up into two teams. I will lead the one, and Russ here will lead the other. You two," he continued, gesturing to a man and woman he didn't recognize, "You're on my team. Ron, Ernie, Brittany — the same goes for you. The rest of you go with Russ."

The teams split up as directed, and Harry looked at the group he would be leading. Ron, Ernie and Brittany all looked grim and determined, as did the female he didn't recognize. The male, on the other hand, looked a bit pale — it was obvious he was nervous about the expedition.

Harry cleared his throat. "All right, everybody, I think it's best that the two groups split up. There's no telling which way they went, so it's important to cover as much ground as possible as quickly as possible. We'll be moving fast, everybody."

He received nods from the other 11, and he gestured to his group. "We'll be moving down this hallway," he said, pointing to a hallway forward and to the left of where they currently stood. "The other team will be going down here," he said, pointing at a hallway to his immediate left. "We'll try to meet up later."

Moving cautiously now, Harry avoided the crater in the middle of the floor as he made his way toward the hallway he would lead his team down. Peering to the end of the hallway, he couldn't see anybody, but he still put a finger to his lips to indicate to the others that they should move as quietly as possible. This accomplished, he began to creep his way down the hallway, feeling the others behind him doing the same thing.

After walking for about a minute, the group came toward an area where its hallway intersected with another to the right. Harry looked down the other hallway and didn't see anything. He decided that they should continue to move along in the hallway they were currently in. However, as he began to move forward again, the male from Ron's class cleared his throat.

Harry turned and gave him a look that could melt stone. "_What is it?_" he hissed, momentarily glad he was a Parselmouth. It made him sound much more sinister in times like these.

"Well, I was just thinking," the man continued. "We could split up into two smaller groups and have one group go down this hall and one go down the other."

"Ah," Harry said, looking like he was seriously considering the man's point while he was actually wondering how stupid this bloody idiot actually was. "What's your name?"

"Robert," he said. "Robert Jenkins."

"Well, Robert," Harry said, trying to remain as pleasant as possible while controlling the urge to kick Robert in the shins. Hard. "There's just one minor problem with your plan. Do you know what it is?"

"No," the brown-haired man said, looking utterly perplexed. "I don't."

"Well, Robert," Harry continued in that low, controlled tone. "Suppose we split up into two smaller groups now, as you suggest, and move down two separate hallways, as you also suggest. What, then, happens if we come to another intersection of hallways? Do we split up again? And then what happens if it happens again? Eventually we'd all be by ourselves, which is most likely the way the dark wizards want it, if I'm thinking correctly. Especially considering they're probably in a nice large group. They'd love to ambush one of us. Would you like to give them the opportunity?"

Perkins looked absolutely dumbstruck, which, Harry thought, seemed fitting somehow. He looked at the others. "Any…er…other suggestions?" Nobody else spoke. "Good," he said, no longer forcing cheerfulness. "Let's continue, eh?" He moved down the hallway as if nothing had just occurred, as if he hadn't just spent precious time arguing about his choice of hallway with Perkins.

As they reached the end of the hallway, they came to another intersection--though this time it was just one hallway they had to choose from. "Left or right?" Harry mumbled, then shrugged, realizing it probably wouldn't make much difference either way. His group, or Russ's, or both, would eventually meet up with the dark wizards, if they were still there, no matter which way he went now. Therefore, he elected to go to the right.

They had barely made it a quarter of the way down this hall when Harry heard a noise behind them. He whirled sharply, seeing movement further down the hall.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" he shouted, hurling himself at the floor as the others did the same. Even as he felt a stabbing pain in his left arm, which he had landed on, he saw several flashes of green light pass over the others' and his heads. Then Harry pointed his wand down the hall. "Stupefy!" he cried along with the five others, and he saw their bolts of red light zoom down the hall. Some found their marks--Harry could see more than one dark wizard stagger and fall to the ground, Stunned. The others Disapparated before the spells could hit him.

Harry got to his knees and rubbed his left elbow, which was now throbbing from when he had fallen on it. "Everybody okay?" he asked, getting to his feet shakily as he received five grunts of affirmation. "Good," he said. "Shall we see who we're up against?" he asked. Receiving no answer, Harry moved down the hallway and came to a stop at the two prone bodies of the incapacitated dark wizards. He knelt down and pulled down the hood on the first.

The first thought he had was that this witch would be more attractive if she didn't look so…well, evil. Her bright green eyes were wide open and livid, her dark brown hair was pulled back and she wore an awful scowl on her face. Other than his initial strange thought, however, Harry had no reaction. He didn't recognize her at all.

He became aware that Ron was nudging him rather painfully in the side. He turned and looked his best friend in the eye, annoyed. Ron looked down, then back up at Harry, his look saying something significant. Harry looked down at the other dark wizard…or witch, for that matter. This one he recognized.

Pansy Parkinson hadn't changed much since her Hogwarts days, physically and, Harry guessed, morally as well. He recognized her pug nose and was glad she was unconscious so he didn't have to listen to her screechy, shrill voice. He looked at Ron out of the corner of his eye. "No surprise where she's ended up, right?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "Actually, I expected her to be a brothel girl or something of that sort."

Harry smirked slightly. "True." He straightened up. "All right, let's hide these two somewhere in case their friends come looking for them again."

They found a room down the hall where they stowed the two women and went back into the hallway, where they continued their trek. Letting his instincts make the decision for him, Harry made a right turn and continued down yet another long corridor.

However, this time it appeared his instincts had let him down. He and the others weren't expecting a door to their left to open so quickly, nor were they expecting the bolt of green light that came from the hooded figure who had opened the door. While he threw himself to the ground again and noticed most of the others do the same, he heard the unmistakable thump of a spell hitting a body. He had heard the spoken curse, had heard the sound of speeding death and knew that one of their number was now dead. Seething, Harry cast the _Levicorpus _spell, just as he had done to Robinson during their duel, and saw the spell work once more. The killer now hung by his or her ankle. Harry stormed over, picked up the dropped wand and snapped it in two, then ripped off the hood of the attacker.

He felt the nasty pang of recognition once more as he took in the face of his school enemy. "Malfoy," he spat out.

The blond smirked. "Surprised, Potter? Or upset? Did I take out your boyfriend?"

"Honestly, I'm surprised you had the stones to cast that spell," Harry said. "You certainly didn't in school."

"Things change," Malfoy said.

"True," Harry said. "You must have had an implant or something."

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort but never got the chance. Rather than using his wand to render his enemy unconscious, Harry had used his fists, hauling off and punching Malfoy in the face, much like Hermione had done in their third year. Now his right hand throbbed, much like his left elbow, but he felt oddly satisfied.

The feeling faded when he turned and looked back at his team, which was gathered around its fallen comrade. He made his way over and looked down at the man who had taken the Killing Curse, the man he had been speaking to just minutes earlier.

**Elsewhere**

Russ Robinson ran a hand through his hair once more, a habit he had had ever since he was a child growing up in California. When he was growing up, he had always been a loner, and he had grown used to it. Nobody ever tried to make friends with him, and he never went out of his way to befriend others. He was happier alone anyway.

That was why he felt so uncomfortable leading this team in search of the dark wizards in the Auror headquarters. He much preferred fighting alone, as then he only had himself to answer for. Here he wasn't just fighting with five others, but he had to lead them--meaning he would be responsible for any mistakes they might--and probably would--make.

Still, he was doing his best, and thus far the group hadn't done too badly. They had squared off against just one set of dark wizards, and his team had knocked out three of them by using Stunners. He had gotten who he presumed to be the leader of that particular group, and Hannah and Dean had each hit another wizard.

That Hannah…she surprised Russ constantly. The truth was, he had thought she was rather weak when he had first met her three years ago, and it was only recently that those feelings had started to change. Russ didn't like to think of himself as cocky, but he believed he was a better wizard than most others around.

Of course, Potter was better. He had used to think that Potter was overrated, a product of hearing nothing but glowing things about him over the years. He had assumed that Potter was an arrogant fool, swelled up on what others had said about him over the years, more name than skill.

He was wrong. Potter had bested him in every duel they had fought. Even though Robinson figured he was close to the Potter's skill level, as he usually gave the Boy-Who-Lived all he could handle, he wasn't stupid. He knew Potter was better. He hated to admit it, but he knew.

A sudden sound to the group's left made him turn swiftly. His eyes widened as he saw several different colors of light coming toward his group, many of which seemed to be directed at him.

Even as he threw his body to the left, he had the nasty feeling that one or more of the spells was going to hit him.

He howled in pain as he felt something hit him in the side and fell to the ground.

Everything went black.

**Elsewhere**

He had acted like a world-class git to Perkins, had thought Robert was an idiot. But he hadn't wanted this to happen.

Harry stood in shock above Robert's body, not wanting to believe that he was dead. But he knew that lack of belief wouldn't bring Perkins back. It hadn't brought back Sirius.

He became aware that the other members of the group were looking at him, wanting to know what their next move should be. Harry cleared his throat, still mentally kicking himself for not being a better leader--for not anticipating Malfoy's attack. "We should keep going," he said. "We can't let them catch us unawares. We don't want them to ambush us now."

The woman he didn't recognize from Ron's class looked at him as if he was mad. "And do what?" she asked. "Leave Robert here? We can't do that. _I _can't do that," she said, her voice breaking at the end.

Ron walked up and put a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing we can do for him, Leslie," he said gently. "He's gone."

Leslie looked up, tears in her eyes. "I know. But I can't leave him."

"He wouldn't want us to give up what we're doing because of this," Ron said.

"How do you know?" she asked sharply. "_You_ didn't know him. Not like I did."

Harry re-entered the conversation, rubbing his temples as he spoke. "All right, you can stay with him," he said. "But you can't stay in the hall. You're too much of a target like that."

They stowed Robert and Leslie in a room, much like they had done for the two witches earlier. Harry Stunned Malfoy, who had shown signs of stirring, and after putting him in the Full Body Bind, stuck him in another room in the hallway.

Harry looked at the three members of the group left--his old friend Ron, Ernie and Brittany. "Let's go," he said softly. They nodded and followed him as he continued down the corridor.

Before they had gotten too far, Harry had the nasty feeling that another fight was coming. Listening to the gut feeling, he looked to the right and saw the unmistakable sight of a large group of dark wizards in another hallway--he counted more than 10. Luckily, he thought they hadn't seen him or his team yet. He motioned for them to get down, and they obliged quietly.

"_Stunners,_" he whispered urgently. He fired two in quick succession, and noticed the rest of them doing the same. Each hit their mark--eight dark wizards fell before they even knew they were being fired upon. Now Harry saw there were five more, and they looked confused as to where the spells had come from. They were looking in the opposite direction of where the team was. Nodding to the group, Harry fired another Stunner and saw another dark wizard fall, then three more from the others' spells.

The last dark wizard Disapparated before Harry or one of the others could fire a spell his way, but Harry had a hard time suppressing a grin as he looked at the others. "Good work, everybody," he said, getting to his feet.

"They didn't know what hit them," Ernie said in his pompous voice.

"Not to sound pessimistic," Brittany said, "but didn't that seem like it was a bit too…easy?"

"That's because we took them by surprise," Ron said. "Right, Harry?"

But Harry realized that she was right. It had seemed too easy, as each one of the dark wizards they had hit had been looking in the wrong direction at the time. Then there was the matter of the last dark wizard, who could very easily give away the team's position and return with a larger, more skilled band of wizards. Then they would get ambushed, not the other way around. He didn't answer Ron's question, merely cleared his throat and said, "Let's keep moving."

They hadn't gotten far when Harry felt a chill on the back of his neck and realized they were being followed. If the others had had the same feeling, they weren't showing it. He elected to wait for the right time to turn and surprise the followers. He motioned to the others to walk beside him and muttered out of the side of his mouth: "Behind us. I'm not sure how many."

"What do we do?" Ernie muttered back.

"Wait for my lead," Harry said quietly. After they had walked several more paces, he made a sharp 360-degree turn and shot a Stunner, noticing the others do the same.

However, the dark wizards seemed to be utterly prepared for such an attack, as they had all used a Shield Charm. Now they fired their own curses back.

"PROTEGO!" Harry bellowed, blocking the spells thrown at him. Brittany, Ron and Ernie had done the same thing. But one of the curses that they threw couldn't be blocked--Harry watched in horror as Ernie was struck by another Killing Curse, saw the proud Hufflepuff look up in surprise before falling.

He realized he had left his guard down, and now he saw a more ominous spell being fired, one he hadn't seen since his seventh year.

"RUN!" he shouted to Ron and Brittany, no time left to do anything else. His companions turned and fled down the corridor, and Harry pelted after them as fast as he could.

Even as he did, he felt it growing hotter and hotter behind him. The Fiendfyre was gaining on him. Seeing another hallway intersection, he made a sharp right turn, hoping the Fiendfyre wouldn't be able to make the turn. It didn't work, and he no longer saw Ron and Brittany in front of him.

Just as he felt he wouldn't be able to escape the fire, he felt a hand grab the back of his robes and drag him into a room. As the door closed, Harry saw the fire roar past and sighed in relief as he looked at the person who had just saved his life.

"_You_," he said in surprise.

Russ Robinson had seen better days. His face was covered in gashes, his robes were torn and his hair was askew and singed. But he was alive, and so were Ron and Brittany, as they too were in the room, as was Hannah. But that was all.

Harry licked his dry lips. "Where are--" he began, but he lost his speaking ability at the look on Robinson's face.

"We were ambushed," the American said darkly. "Only Hannah and I got out of there alive."

The color drained from Harry's face. They had begun their mission with 12. They were down to five, plus Leslie, and he wasn't even sure whether she was still alive. Dean, Terry, Ernie--all of them were gone. Then there was the matter of the four they had left in the examination room? Were they still alive? Or were their injuries serious enough to kill them?

"What next?" Hannah asked, looking to Harry for the answer. He had no answers left, however, and merely shook his head.

"Why are they here?" Ron asked. "Why would they attack people training to be Aurors?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Brittany asked. Harry looked at her, surprised--she had been quiet since he had gotten into the room. "We weren't the target. They were trying to get us out of the way, so we and the other Aurors couldn't stop them. Their real target is--"

Harry remembered reading _The Psychology of Dark Wizards._ The book had talked about how dark wizards thought, and this was part of it. He realized who the real target was, and he spoke it at the same time as Brittany.

"_The Minister."_

**Elsewhere**

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed as he sipped his coffee, which was about his eighth cup of the day. He rubbed his temples as he looked at the paperwork in front of him, a decree waiting for him to sign. What was this one even about? He picked it up and read it again, then sighed in frustration. Something about the imports of cauldrons from foreign countries.

This part of the job he hated. The monotony, the endless signing or vetoing of laws that really didn't affect anything to begin with. It all felt rather unimportant--he felt rather unimportant, almost like a figurehead.

He missed being an Auror. That was the job he had loved, catching dark wizards, fighting in the war against Voldemort. The thrill of battle was like nothing else in the world.

As if on cue, the door to his office burst open and five people came into the room. He recognized Harry and Ron and was about to greet them when they and the others threw him to the ground.

"What the hell?" he asked, but Harry put a finger to his lips.

"_Quiet," _he said, and Shacklebolt wondered for a second who Harry thought he was. Did he really think he could order the Minister of Magic around? But the thought died when the door flew open again and more than 20 dark wizards flooded in. Now Shacklebolt looked at Harry, his mouth agape.

Harry nodded at his team, all hunched behind Shacklebolt's desk. "You know what to do," he said.

They nodded and all five raised their wands.

"VALDE VOX!" five voices shouted in unison.

**Later**

Harry woke up in what looked to be a hospital room. _What happened? _he wondered as he looked around at the other four from the team, who had also begun to stir. He realized that they must have blacked out from the power of the spell they had all cast, but not before the power of the five combined spells knocked out every one of the dark wizards.

Now Harry looked at Ron, who was in the bed next to him. Ron looked back, a smile playing on his lips.

"We did it, mate," Harry's best friend said.

"You certainly did," a gruff voice said from the doorway of the room. Harry sat up in bed, as did the other four. There was Dawlish, his face split in a rare smile. Behind him Harry saw the other instructors.

"You did it," Dawlish repeated. "You passed the exam. Congratulations."

**Hogwarts--Later**

"So it was all just a test?" Hermione asked Ron, surprised.

"Yeah," he said. "I was shocked when I found out. It wasn't exactly the most fun test I've ever taken…not that any other tests are fun."

"That's awful that they'd make you go through that, though," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Ron responded. "Here we were all thinking that our classmates were dead and it turns out that they're all just fine and dandy. Well, not totally fine and dandy. They did fail the exam, so they just wasted three years of training for nothing."

"At least they're not dead, though," Hermione said. "And it's probably better that this is how they find out they're not fit to be an Auror, rather than later when the curses are flying around for real."

"I suppose," he said. "But it's still a rotten thing to do to a person--train them for three years and then pull something like this on them. It was a nightmare--I didn't know what was going to happen after that wall exploded."

"Were you scared?" Hermione asked.

"Me?" he asked. "Maybe a little bit. But you should have seen Harry. He was incredible, ducking curses and shooting off some of his own. Made it look easy."

"Where is Harry, anyway?" she asked, frowning.

"Oh, he's got a date with Luna tonight," Ron answered. "It's either their second or third…I'm not entirely sure."

"Oh," Hermione said.

**Elsewhere, later that night**

"I had a really great time tonight, Harry," Luna was saying as they stood at the door of her flat. "We should do it again soon."

"Me too," Harry said and meant it. They had gone out to dinner and then swing dancing at a club Luna knew of, and he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. The test being over had taken a load off of his shoulders.

Of course, the company of Luna had helped greatly. Harry found himself growing rather fond of her--he looked forward to going on dates with her.

"I'd ask you to come in, but I know you've had a long day with the test and all, and it is rather late," she said. "Besides, the whole flat's rather messy right now and I don't want you to think less of me if you see it. It's better that you see it after I've gotten the chance to tidy it up."

"I could never think less of you," Harry said softly, looking her straight in the eyes.

"You say that now," Luna said, a smile playing on the corner of her lips.

"I mean it," Harry said under his breath as he became aware of how close they were standing. Without a second thought, he cupped her face in his hands and brought his mouth down to theirs.

They shared their first kiss together as moonlight from outside streamed into the hallway through the window.

**A/N: Please don't throw things at me! I don't think Harry/Hermione shippers will be fond of the end of this chapter, but do let me assure you that H/Hr will happen. I just think that the more complications thrown in their way, the more satisfying the onset of the eventual relationship will be when it happens. Some complications will be resolved soon…trust me.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please do me a favor and review.**


	6. Mystery, Mystery, Mystery

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting the chapter. The sink Cloud Jones threw hit me right in the head. **

**This chapter will give you looks inside the brains of several different characters--including a couple of glimpses at Hermione by herself at Hogwarts. It came to my brain that I really haven't fleshed her out too much, and I tried to correct that with this chapter.**

**I think the next couple of chapters will have the action really start to begin, and this chapter sets up some of that action nicely, at least in my opinion.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please drop me a review after you finish reading.**

**  
Thanks!**

**Anything But Ordinary**

**Chapter Six: Mystery, mystery, mystery...**

**Monday**

Russ Robinson sat at his new desk, admiring the Auror office on his first day on the job. He had arrived bright and early that morning after waking up at 5 a.m., much too excited to sleep. Therefore, he had arrived before any of the other four first-year Aurors.

He looked around again. Sure, there were bad things about the office. He and his classmates were shunted off to the corner, and the five desks seemed to be jammed into a small area. The veteran Aurors all had cubicles with room for personal touches. He just had a desk which he was sure wouldn't have much room for anything other than paperwork.

As it was just his first day, he hadn't yet been assigned a case, but he figured it would most likely happen that morning. He hoped it would be a good case--after three years of training, he certainly didn't want to waste his time on silly, insignificant cases. He hadn't gotten into the Auror program to save kittens from trees or something of that nature.

Why had he gotten into the training? The thought made him pause in his surveying of the office. It certainly wasn't the pay--he had heard horror stories from veteran Aurors about trying to live from paycheck to paycheck. It wasn't because being an Auror was easy, either--it clearly wasn't. He probably wouldn't have an active social life as an Auror, not that that would bother him any. Russ had never been a person to go out on a date or drinking with a group of friends. He much preferred staying home and studying, which probably was why he had passed the exam and others, like Macmillan and Goldstein, had failed.

No, Robinson wasn't in it for the money or for the social life. He was in it for the importance. He had known while at school in California that he was a better wizard than just about all of his classmates. Every single year, he had finished at or near the top of the class in just about every subject. When he graduated, Russ had wanted to enroll in a job that would match his talents, and he thought becoming an Auror would do just that.

And it had, actually. The training had been as grueling as he had expected, and the final exam had tested him in ways he hadn't even expected. Now he just hoped the real job would be like the training.

Footsteps woke him from his reverie. He looked up to see Hannah Abbott approaching, a look of anticipation on her face as she too looked around.

"Nice, isn't it?" Robinson asked. He had recently begun developing feelings for Abbott, feelings that were quite new to him. Before now, he had never had much interest in women, but Hannah was a girl who intrigued him--mostly, perhaps, because much like him, she was a person who flew under the radar.

"It's amazing," Hannah said breathlessly as she sat down at the desk opposite Robinson's. "It's so cozy here, but the whole feeling--finally being an Auror--that's what is the best for me."

"Well, you earned it," Robinson said. "Especially during that final exam."

"I was scared out of my mind," Hannah admitted. "But I tried not to let it show."

"You succeeded," Russ answered. "I couldn't tell you were scared or nervous at all--I actually thought you were rather incredible." He felt his face grow warm and wondered how obvious he was being.

"Thanks," Hannah said softly, her cheeks getting rosy after the compliment. She looked at Russ properly. He was someone who always seemed to be shrouded in mystery. When she had first begun the program, she and the others had tried to draw Russ out, but he had remained isolated from the rest of the group for really the entire three years of training. Now, Robinson was one of the few left from her class, as the exam had dwindled the numbers down considerably. She supposed she would get to know him better after they worked together for a certain period of time.

"Is this it?" came a shrill voice. Hannah and Russ looked up to see Brittany Edwards, who looked supremely unhappy. Her long blond hair bounced as she came toward the group. "Look how tiny it is…I don't know what they expect us to be able to do working in an area like this."

"I think it's okay," Hannah said, surprised. "It is a little small, but we're the lowest on the totem pole, so of course we'd get put back here."

"That is soo unfair," Brittany said. "My friend Ashley is a wizard detective in America, and she has her own office, which is about double the size of this!"

"Yes, but how often will we honestly be at the office?" Russ asked. "Won't we be out on raids and stuff like that most of the time?"

"Gosh, I hope so," Brittany said. "I think I'd get depressed working in an office like this eight hours a day." She heaved herself into her chair with a huffy sigh, as Russ leaned into Hannah.

"That's the last thing we'd want," he said quietly. "A depressed Brittany."

Hannah held back a laugh, looking merry. "Yeah, a happy Brittany is depressing enough," she whispered back, making Russ grin.

Veteran Aurors began trickling in, some by themselves, some in groups. They didn't even spare their new counterparts a second glance as they sat down in their cubicles. Russ looked around, wondering where Potter and his friend Weasley were.

At about five minutes to eight, Ron walked into the office, looking mutinous. "Merlin, do we have to wake up this early every day? I thought I was done with that."

"Not a morning person, Ron?" Hannah asked.

"Not in the slightest," Ron said. "I don't know how I survived waking up this early when we were at Hogwarts and in training. Every day was an ordeal."

"An ordeal?" Russ asked.

"Yes," Ron answered. "An ordeal. And here we don't even get the breakfast that Hogwarts had. I may have hated waking up early in school, but at least Hogwarts had food to look forward to."

"Do you ever think of anything but food?" an amused voice came from behind Ron. The redhead turned around and saw his best friend, who now waved a greeting to the other three, who waved back.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said. "You look tired." He did at that. His hair was rumpled and stuck up in the back, as usual, and his eyes had dark circles underneath. He looked like he had woken up just minutes before and thrown on the first clothes he had found in his room.

Nonetheless, he still was grinning broadly at the group.

"Tired?" Harry asked. "Yes, I suppose I am. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, but I'm here, at least. And I'm not complaining, either," he added with a significant look at his best friend.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said. "You'd be complaining too if you didn't get home from Hogwarts until three in the morning."

"Is that what time Hermione finally kicked you out?" Harry asked.

"Very funny," Ron said, frowning. "I still don't know why she won't let me stay. And why have you still not told me how your date went Friday night?"

Luckily for Harry, he didn't have to answer, as Dawlish had come in and announced a staff meeting. As Harry rose from his desk, Ron persisted in trying to find out how the date had gone.

"Where did you go?" he hissed in Harry's ear. "What did you do? Did you go back to her place afterward? To your place?" Harry gave him a sidelong glance, a smile playing on his lips.

"Damn it, Harry!" Ron wheedled. "Why won't you tell me?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Russ asked sharply. Ron glared at him, then tried to continue asking Harry how the date had gone.

"Not now," Harry finally muttered. "Maybe later." He walked even faster, leaving Ron straining to keep up even with his longer legs.

"Maybe later," Ron mumbled under his breath. "Maybe? No, it had better be definitely later. I want to know what happened."

**Hogwarts**

Hermione turned away from the blackboard and addressed her second-year students from Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

"I was very pleased with the progress you have made in the past year," she said. "Our review sessions last week showed that all of you had remembered your studies from last year." As Hermione talked, she did her best to ignore the Slytherin second year Baggins, who was currently mimicking her every word. Hermione wondered for a moment if she had been like that when she was 12 years old, but shook the thought off. "With that being said," she continued. "I think we should continue in our studies. Each of you has a bit of parchment, I presume?"

The students nodded, and Hermione nodded back curtly. "Good. Last year the largest object you transfigured was a quill. This year we will be working with larger objects, and I suspect some of you will have a hard time picking it up at first. Usually, there are a few who do." Now, she flicked her wand at the blackboard, making the word _Libri_ appear in smooth, cursive writing. "Libri is the incantation used to transfigure an object, such as a piece of parchment, into a book. The wand movement is a smooth half-circle," she said, demonstrating the clockwise motion for the class, "like so. Now, we will use the rest of this class to practice the spell. Begin, please."

As she heard the 18 students in the class begin to recite the spell and saw them imitate her wand movement without success, Hermione walked toward her desk, sitting down with a soft sigh. She was tired. Ron hadn't left until early that morning, even though she had told him numerous times that she had an early class the next day. He had still been in a celebratory mood from his Auror test the previous week, and he had stayed on the Hogwarts campus talking to former professors about it all weekend. Hagrid especially had been quite eager to hear about Ron's exploits, as well as Harry's.

Harry. Hermione frowned. She still hadn't heard from him about the test, and it bothered her. She knew that she wasn't Harry's mother, but she still was his best friend, and it hurt her a little that Harry hadn't bothered to at least attempt to contact her regarding the test. She wondered for a second if he had been busy with Luna that weekend--the thought somewhat disturbed her.

She still wasn't sure how she felt about Harry and Luna being involved in a relationship. Sure, Luna was a good friend of hers now--and Hermione had to admit that the blond's had settled down her quirky side quite a lot since her Hogwarts days--but she still didn't think that she and Harry would make a good couple. Of course, she also recognized that it wasn't her decision to make. She figured that if Luna made Harry happy, she would be all right with the relationship.

Of course, she wanted to find this out herself, so she took out her own piece of parchment, not to transfigure it but to write a letter to Harry.

_Harry, _she began, _I haven't heard from you since the day I came up to Hogwarts, so I wanted to write to see how things were going. First, I'd like to congratulate you on becoming an Auror--your dream job finally came through. Ron's told me all about the exams, but you know how he is--he tends to exaggerate details. What happened? What was it like? _

The sound of an explosion made Hermione look up from her letter. She saw a Hufflepuff girl, Mira Cooper, looking shocked over a burning piece of parchment. Hermione put her letter to the side and walked over to Mira's desk.

"Aguamenti," she said, putting out the still-burning piece of parchment. Looking around, she noticed that none of the class had managed to transfigure their parchment into a book. Remembering that she had been the only one to accomplish this on her first try when she had been a second year, Hermione realized it might take a bit longer for the class to catch on. Why, it had taken Harry and Ron ages to accomplish this Transfiguration, and now they were both Aurors.

"It's all right," Hermione said to Mira, who looked at her with sad brown eyes. "I don't expect everyone to be perfect on his or her first try. Let me see you try it again." Cooper made the motion, but Hermione stopped her halfway through. "No, no, try to make it a more smooth motion. You're forcing it. Try it like this, without the incantation," she said, demonstrating the motion again. Mira repeated the movement, and Hermione nodded. "Much better. Now try it with the incantation."

Mira made the smooth clockwise motion and said, "Libri." This time, instead of a fire, Mira had several pieces of parchment where one had been before. They weren't bound yet, but it was the beginning of a book. Hermione smiled and nodded at her, motioning that she should keep trying.

She spent the rest of the class demonstrating the wand motions to the rest of the class and helping the students with the problems they were having. Her letter to Harry would have to wait.

**Auror headquarters**

"All right, everyone," Dawlish said, quieting down the Aurors who had been conversing quietly in the back row. Harry, who had been fending off Ron's latest attempts to find out about his and Luna's date, sat up straighter and paid attention.

A picture of a man was being projected to the room. Above the man's smirking face were the words, "The Loch Ness Mobster?" Harry frowned, wondering who this man was--he hadn't even heard of him before. The man's smirk turned into a scowl as Harry kept watching, quite an eerie transformation.

Dawlish cleared his throat. "This man's name, if you are not aware of it, is Roy Henderson. Before a couple years ago, Henderson had never been heard of before--then he made some money in somewhat mysterious circumstances and surfaced in Scotland. Ever since, he's been a thorn in our side--drugs, gambling, other shady business doings. He went underground for two months a year ago and resurfaced even richer, and with considerable more wizarding power than he had before."

A veteran Auror had raised his hand, and Dawlish nodded at him. "What do you mean, more power?" the Auror asked, looking genuinely confused.

"Well, we've had dealings with Henderson in the past," Dawlish said. "Every time an Auror got into a fight with him, the Auror won easily. Henderson never showed much wizarding skills. That's what has made the past few weeks somewhat worrisome."

"What's been happening?" another Auror asked.

"We have an agent in Henderson's business," Dawlish continued. "He's never been able to get deep enough into the organization to find out Henderson's shadiest doings--he only shares that with a select few. But our mole reports that lately, Henderson has been--showing off his new powers, in front of everyone in the organization. Our agent even reports that he had never seen some of these powers before. This makes him more dangerous in our eyes…and there is another problem."

"What's that?" another Auror asked.

"Henderson has become an extremely popular public figure," Dawlish said. "Despite our best efforts to catch him in illegal doings, he's always been able to slither his way away--we've never been able to prove any of our accusations. He's an extremely charming man, Henderson, or so I've heard. The media especially love him--journalists are calling us the real bad guys, for picking on a self-made millionaire who contributes a sizable amount of money to charity."

"Lucius Malfoy gave money to charity as well," said a severe-looking woman to Harry's right. "You'd think people would learn."

"Yes, well Malfoy had charm, that's for sure," Dawlish said. "But this Henderson has it by the gallon. That alone makes me not trust him--you can never trust the charming ones."

A ripple of laughter went up at this, and Dawlish raised the corner of his mouth in a smile, though he still looked grim. "Our strategy is to begin to monitor Henderson 24/7. We need to upgrade our surveillance, find out where he goes when he conducts some of his other business. We need to find out what the 'other business' is as well. Each of you will receive a portfolio with your orders, including which fellow Auror will be your partner. Everyone understand?" Nods went up around the room, and Dawlish closed his eyes, looking weary. "Good. Meeting concluded."

The sound of nearly 50 Aurors getting up filled the room, and Harry got to his feet slowly, looking at Ron to his right. His best friend blinked several times, then looked back at Harry.

"Blimey, mate," Ron said, shaking his head. "What do you make of that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head as well. "I don't know…"

_Elsewhere_

_Potter had become an Auror. He knew that much. The plotter knew Aurors and others would watch him, so he watched them in return. He knew more than they thought he knew. He knew everything about the inner workings of the Auror system--what the Aurors were doing, their plans, where their "secret headquarters" were, and more. It almost made him want to laugh--that the Aurors thought they were fooling anybody…that they thought they stayed underground well._

_He even knew who and where the Aurors' spies were. If he felt like it, he could reveal their identities to the leaders of the organizations these Aurors had "infiltrated." He imagined the next day's headlines--many brutal murders of Aurors._

_There was another thing--he had found out all this information through work of his own. He had no spies, no moles--he worked alone, much as he preferred it. Partners, or employees…they would just slow him down anyway. He was much too skilled and too fast for them._

_He looked again at the blueprints of his plan and grinned. Soon enough it would come to a fruition. The Aurors would go to Scotland to put more surveillance on Roy Henderson, the "Loch Ness Mobster" as that stupid magazine article had called him. The Aurors would think they had the upper hand. _

_They would be wrong, the plotter thought. And once I make my move, they won't know what will come next._

_And Potter? Why, he would probably be difficult to take down. The plotter knew Potter was a talented wizard, but take Potter down he would. _

_It wasn't a threat. The plotter didn't make threats. He made vows, and he kept them._

**Hogwarts**

Hermione rubbed her eyes after reading yet another essay written by a fifth year. She would be giving grades based on what she felt the student would get on the O.W.L.s, and the previous essay was a "D" level if she had ever seen one. The highest grade she had given out so far was an "E" to a Ravenclaw girl who reminded Hermione of herself. Other than that, the essays had been lackluster.

What she needed was coffee, and lots of it. But she didn't want to trouble the house elves at this late hour--it was nearly midnight. She hadn't forgotten her S.P.E.W. days.

A tapping at the window made her look up. There was Harry's new owl, a dignified-looking barn owl by the name of Amity.

"Hey, boy," Hermione cooed as she opened the window to let the owl fly in. Harry had put off getting a new owl for a long time, mourning Hedwig, before she had dragged him to Diagon Alley to find a replacement. He had taken to Amity from the start, and Hermione had been glad--she too had thought the owl was beautiful when she first saw it. Now she took the letter from Amity's leg, recognizing Harry's scrawled handwriting. It made her smile wistfully to see it. She opened the letter.

_Hermione,_

_Please forgive me for being a git and not sending you a letter since you got back up to Hogwarts. I could say that I've been incredibly busy, or that I thought you would be incredibly busy and not have time to read my letter, but that would be making excused. I make none, as you well know._

_The Auror exams were brutal, but we ultimately passed, as I gather Ron told you when he came up to see you this weekend. I want you to know that Ron was something else during the exams--the cool he showed in what was an extremely dangerous situation was incredible to see. I must confess that I was somewhat nervous during the exams, but if Ron was, he didn't show it._

_I could have come up to see you this weekend as well, but I didn't want to intrude. You and Ron are engaged, so I figure that you two do deserve your privacy. Besides, I had a date of my own Friday night._

_Luna is unbelievable. Every single one of my relationships has fallen apart for various reasons, as you well know--you've been there to witness them fragment into tiny pieces the size of Malfoy's brain. But thus far, this relationship has turned out better than any one I've ever been in. I don't want to jinx it, but I sense a real future for me and Luna. _

_I hope that news pleases you--I know you had told me I had seemed unhappy recently, and, I must confess, I rather was. But now I'm happy, and I suspect Luna is a big reason for that. _

_Gosh, I'm gushing like Ron originally did about Viktor Krum. I should quit while I'm not completely behind, shouldn't I?_

_Again, please forgive me for being a git. Does it help for me to say that I've been thinking of you and hoping that the little kiddies aren't driving you completely insane?_

_I plan to come up to Hogwarts to visit you soon. That's not an empty promise--I don't make empty promises._

_Love, _

_Harry_

Hermione put the letter down, noticing smudges on the letter. She touched her eyes, confused, and felt wetness there and on her cheeks. She hadn't realized while reading Harry's letter that she had been crying, and now she had no idea as to why she had been. Confusion was a new feeling for her.

She threw her still-unfinished letter in the trash and vowed to write him tomorrow. She left the rest of the essays for the next day as well--now she felt like taking a nice, hot shower and going to bed.


	7. I dreamed a dream

-1**A/N: Wow, it's been what -- nine months? **

**I feel awful that I haven't updated this story in so long. I had promised myself at the beginning that this story would be different, that I wouldn't get discouraged by anything and stop updating. **

**Well, it seems that became the case anyway. Let me try to explain myself. First of all, I got hit by what was a massive case of writer's block. I began writing this chapter months ago and actually completed half of it before I decided I hated it and what I was planning to do with the characters. Therefore, I scrapped that and my original story idea and went back to the drawing board. I've finally decided what route to take my story, and I hope it's a better one than my original idea. I'm crossing my fingers on that.**

**Other reasons for the delay: Well, first of all, college kicked my ass this year. I had to make a conscious decision: school or story. I chose school. I hope you don't hate me for that. Any time outside of class that I would have otherwise spent writing this story I spent working. **

**Also, I have to admit: I did get discouraged by the lack of reader response. I got some and I was grateful for that, but I'm not going to lie: I wanted more. Chapter 6 had more than 250 hits and just four reviews. While I'm not obtuse enough to think every reader will review, I was hoping for a better ratio than that. **

**So, anyway, that's my explanation. I don't blame you if you don't accept it; as a matter of fact, I'm not even sure I do. But I hope you understand and keep reading anyway.**

**Without further adieu, here's Chapter 7. I hope you enjoy, and please, please, please review.**

**Chapter 7: I dreamed a dream**

**Two Days Later**

_Harry smiled at Hermione as they sat down at a table in the Three Broomsticks. "I'm glad we did this," he said as he picked up a menu. "I've missed you."_

"_Same here," Hermione said softly as she gazed into his green eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she had done this with him. Truth be told, she had been rather lonely at Hogwarts--she felt like she was all alone up there, separated from the people she cared about the most. She was lucky she had classes to teach during the week, but during the weekend, she could do nothing but think about her friends and family miles away._

_But now wasn't the time to think about that. She looked at Harry, who was perusing his menu with a look of intense concentration on his face. She smiled slightly. He could be so cute when he concentrated, as he did now. He probably would deny it, which would make it even cuter._

_As if he read her thoughts, Harry looked up from his menu, a merry look on his face. "What's going on, Granger?" he asked. "Why the staring?"_

"_That," Hermione said, "is for me to know and you not to."_

_Harry stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout. "Well, maybe I'll just have to do some investigating," he said. _

"_Investigate me, oh big bad Auror," Hermione said. "I promise you I won't give anything up."_

"_You say that now," he answered. "But just wait until I interrogate you. Your knees will get weak, and soon you'll be spilling all your secrets."_

"_Ah, yes," Hermione said, rolling her eyes in playful exasperation. "Because I'm so obviously the week-kneed type."_

"_Ah, but you don't have to be the type to get weak at the knees, as I reminded you the last time we met," Harry said. "Do you remember?"_

_Hermione sobered. "I remember every time we meet. We don't get to do it often enough."_

"_I know," Harry said with a sigh. "But you know what it's like for us. With you up here and me back in London, we're obviously not going to see each other much."_

"_How is the job going?" Hermione asked, interested._

"_Well, it's fairly exciting," Harry said. "I'm heading off this weekend to do some surveillance work. Still, I'd rather be out there fighting."_

"_I wouldn't," Hermione said. "I worry nonstop about you every time you're out there fighting evil. I know you have to do it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."_

"_It's not just that I have to do it," Harry said. "It's that I want to do it. I could be somewhere else, I could have another job, but I wouldn't be as happy doing something else as I am as an Auror."_

"_Not even if you taught at Hogwarts with me?" Hermione asked, lowering her eyes._

"_Hermione, you know I'd love to see you more often," Harry said. "But teaching isn't my thing. School isn't my thing. You of all people should know that. You practically wrote my essays when we were in school together; I can't very well have you grade them for me when I'm a professor."_

"_Yes, well…I think you underestimate yourself," Hermione said. "You and Ron always did."_

_Harry had grown serious at the mention of Ron. "I saw Ron the other day," he said softly._

"_How'd it go?" Hermione asked, hoping against hope the meeting had gone well. The look on Harry's face, however, suggested otherwise._

"_The usual," Harry said. "He completely ignored me. I can't take this, 'Mione--I can't take my best friend hating me."_

"_He'll come around," Hermione said. "He just needs some time. He was shocked when he found out. Everybody was."_

"_Hell, I was shocked myself when it happened," Harry said. _

"_In a good way, I hope," Hermione said. _

"_Of course, in a good way," Harry said. "I certainly wasn't unhappy."_

"_Nor was I," Hermione said. "And I'm still not, even though I wish I could see you more."_

"_Just think of it this way," Harry said, a thoughtful look on his face. "Soon it'll be winter break, and then you can come back to London. We can spend as much time together then as we'd like."_

_Hermione sighed happily. "I do like the sound of that." She leaned in, and Harry met her halfway._

_They kissed as the waitress walked up to take their order._

Harry woke up with a start. What the hell had just happened? He rubbed his temples and sat up in his bed.

He had just dreamed about Hermione. And not just about Hermione, but about him and Hermione. In a relationship.

He groaned. Of course, he had dreamed about being in a relationship with Hermione many times during the past, when he had pined over her virtually nonstop. At that time, the dreams were basically a nightly occurrence. But he had told himself to get over her, and he thought he had done so. After all, he was dating Luna.

Luna. The thought of her made him pause. Luna was…incredible. They had gone on another date just the night before, in fact. They had had a great time, yet Harry had had a nagging feeling all night that something about the date wasn't quite right. He hadn't been able to put a finger on what that something was.

Now he knew. He wasn't over Hermione. That much was made painfully clear after the dream he had just had. Harry couldn't get over how…goofy…he was in the dream. Yet despite the goofiness, he had no doubt that the Harry in the dream was happy. After all, he was dating Hermione.

And the real-life Harry apparently wasn't happy. He had his dream job, a great girlfriend and outstanding friends. However, that wasn't good enough for him because no matter how great Luna was, she had one major drawback.

She wasn't Hermione.

**Ministry of Magic**

Ron tore through the hallways of the Ministry of Magic at a speed he reckoned he had never before reached. He knew he was running late, as he had overslept. He never could figure out Hermione's alarm clock. _'Bloody Muggle piece of junk,'_ Ron thought. It never seemed to go off when he needed it to. Of course, when he didn't need it to, the stupid thing did go off.

He could hear his stomach rumbling as he neared the door to Auror headquarters. Ron wasn't accustomed to missing meals, but he had had to skip breakfast this morning because of that dumb alarm clock. He wasn't a morning person even when he did eat breakfast, so this made it all the worse. Despite his sour mood, Ron chuckled a bit. _'Let evil witches and wizards even try to mess with me today,'_ he thought. _'They won't even know what hit them.'_

He sighed as he opened the door that led to the interior of the Auror office and felt his stomach plummet as he noticed it was completely empty. That meant the staff meeting had already begun. _'Can't be late just once,'_ he grumbled as he headed to the staff conference room. Well, maybe he would be able to sneak in and sit in the back without being noticed.

No such luck. The door creaked as he opened it, and every head in the room turned toward him, including the head of Dawlish, who once more stood at the front of the room. Apparently, Ron had interrupted Dawlish's morning update.

"Mr. Weasley." Ron thought Dawlish's gruff voice cut through the air (and him) like a sharp knife cuts through steak. _'Don't think about food,'_ he lectured himself as he heard his stomach rumbling. He turned and faced the senior Auror with a sheepish look on his face, wishing the Earth would open and swallow him whole.

"Yes, sir?" Ron's own voice sounded tiny and nervous compared to Dawlish's authoritative tone.

"Would you care to tell us why you are late, _Mr. Weasley?_" Dawlish asked sharply. Ron bowed his head. "Overslept, sir," he said.

"Ah," Dawlish said. "Overslept. Well, that's certainly understandable." Dawlish's words didn't tell his true meaning--Ron recognized the sarcasm from a mile away. "I trust it will not happen again?" Dawlish asked, emphasizing the last four words in a warning tone and raising an eyebrow.

"No, sir," Ron said. "It won't."

"Good," Dawlish said. "I trust you can sit down more promptly than you can awaken."

Ron felt his face burning as he made his way to the row where the first-year Aurors sat. Harry, Hannah and even Brittany looked like they sympathized with Ron. Robinson, on the other hand, smirked as he looked at Ron. Ron glared back, feeling like he had steam rising both from his face and his ears from his combined anger and embarrassment. _'Git,'_ he thought.

Ron slid into a seat next to his best friend. "What did I miss?" he asked as quietly as he possibly could. Next to him, Harry shook his head.

"Later," Harry said so quietly that it appeared as though he merely mouthed the word. Ron turned his gaze toward the front, where Dawlish was telling the group of Aurors the latest news in the Roy Henderson case. So far, the veteran Aurors he had put on the case hadn't been able to make any progress.

As he listened to Dawlish, Ron became aware that his best friend was behaving rather oddly. Harry kept flicking nervous looks in his direction, and Ron detected spots of pink on his cheeks. Harry was blushing…but why?

Then he remembered. His friend had had a date with Luna the night before. Maybe his best friend's apparent embarrassment meant that he and Luna had taken the next step…or rather, flop…into bed. Ron grinned to himself. _'Lucky sod,' _he thought. _'At least somebody's getting some. I'll have to ask him about it later.'_

Harry, of course, wasn't embarrassed about something he and Luna had done the night before. For one thing, he and Luna hadn't done what Ron suspected them of doing. For the other thing, Harry wasn't the type to get embarrassed about something like that. At least he didn't think he was. He wasn't entirely sure, of course.

No, last night's dream was still weighing heavily on his mind. He still couldn't believe he had had a dream about his best friend's girlfriend. What had Ron done to deserve his best friend having dreams about dating his fiancée? Nothing.

Not to mention Luna. Luna was wonderful, but it was obvious he didn't feel for her what he felt for Hermione. That meant he should probably break up with her. It wouldn't be fair to her to continue dating her when he had feelings for another woman.

It was enough to make Harry want to scream, and he would consider doing it if he wasn't in a room full of people at the moment. It was all so complicated--why couldn't he ever be happy? Why did he have to have these feelings for his spoken-for friend?

Shaking his head to clear it, Harry forced himself to pay attention to Dawlish. The Auror was going over the new plans in the Henderson case.

"We're stepping up our surveillance," Dawlish was saying. "We want more people to be watching him at all times. We're going to have four teams of two watching his house 24 hours a day. If he leaves, two of those teams will follow, but I want two teams to remain at the house. I have a funny feeling about that house."

"Sir, what about the teams?" one of the Aurors asked. "Have you decided on them yet?"

"You'll all receive your partner assignments this afternoon," Dawlish said. "Any questions?" Nobody stirred. "Good. Dismissed."

Harry stood up and left the room quickly, ignoring Ron's persistent attempts to talk to him. He didn't know what his friend wanted to talk about, but he did know that he likely wouldn't be able to look Ron in the eye.

He sat with a sigh at his desk, and pulled out a case report, putting his head in his hands as he read it. As he hadn't yet been put on the Henderson case, he and the rest of the new Aurors had been perusing old files and updating them with new information they had received from the Aurors working those cases.

He looked at this one and did a double-take as he recognized the face sneering up at him from the paper: Draco Malfoy. Harry still remembered the Auror exam when it had been Malfoy killing one of the trainees. He had learned later that it wasn't really Malfoy--just a ruse devised by the Auror department. Still, the feeling was a bit eerie.

Harry hadn't had contact with Malfoy since Hogwarts, so now he peered at the report with interest, wanting to see what Ferret Boy had been up to.

Nothing good, it seemed. Malfoy was another person the department had "interest" in but couldn't really pin anything on. He was involved with shady people and went underground a lot, according to the report. Still, he hadn't been caught red-handed doing anything illegal.

Now Harry looked at the updates. Nothing new there. "Suspected drug deals," Eric Thomas, the Auror on the case, had written.

"Malfoy seen exchanging pile of money with wizard hidden in shadows."

"Seen emerging from Knockturn Alley in late afternoon and stowing something bulky beneath his cloak."

"Secret raid of Malfoy Manor yielded no illegal artifacts."

Harry shook his head as he scribbled these updates into the case report. _What a whole load of nothing,_ he thought. Maybe he would be the one to take down Malfoy, once and for all.

**Later that afternoon**

Ron couldn't figure out what the problem was with his best friend. Every time he tried to talk to Harry, he made some excuse and left. Ron had thought he was probably just too embarrassed to talk about his relationship with Luna; after all, Harry had always been a private person. However, the longer Harry avoided him, the more convinced Ron became that it wasn't a relationship with Luna that had Harry avoiding him. It had to be something else, but the question was what.

Ron mulled this over as he updated some more case reports. He yawned as he did this tedious work, which, if he had to say so, hadn't yielded any significant information. In the previous case report he had learned about the bathroom habits of one of the "dark wizards" under surveillance. The only thing this one had been guilty of had been an unnatural addiction to chocolate, which explained why his given weight on the dossier was 350 pounds.

'_Git looks like Harry's cousin Dudley,' _Ron thought. He snorted at the thought of it, but quieted when he got a look from Lee, one of the veteran Aurors.

He snuck a peek over at Harry. His friend was frowning as he looked over another updated report. As Ron watched, Harry put the updates down, picked up his quill and jotted something down in the complete case report. Then he leaned back, eyes closed and a look of confusion on his face.

Ron frowned. "You OK?" he asked his friend.

Harry looked startled at the question and glanced at Ron. "I'm fine," he said. "Just a bit tired."

Ron looked around to make sure nobody was listening in on the conversation. Satisfied that nobody wasn't, he leaned in closer to Harry with a smirk.

"Tired, eh?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you had another date with the lovely Ms. Luna last night, would it?" Ignoring Harry's groan, Ron pressed on. "You know, you still haven't told me about your date with Luna last night. I've decided to be offended, I think, seeing as how I am your best mate and all."

Harry flushed. "There's nothing to tell," he said. "The reason I didn't get much sleep last night had nothing to do with Luna…I just had a bad dream."

That was half true. His dream about Hermione had kept him up, but he didn't think he'd use the word "bad" to describe it. Improper, yes. Likely to open up a big can of worms, possibly. But not bad. Still, he hoped Ron wouldn't press the matter even further.

His hopes were short-lived. "Very convincing argument, mate," Ron said. "Come on -- what really happened? I have to live vicariously through you, you know!"

"Ron," Harry began warningly, but luckily didn't have to finish his sentence because Dawlish had just arrived at the new Aurors' station carrying a clipboard.

"Surveillance assignments," Dawlish said. "As you're just beginning Aurors, you'll be watching Henderson's house just one day a week. Veteran Aurors generally will be watching two days a week.

"Potter," he continued, "I'm placing you with Robinson." Harry looked at Russ, exchanging a nod with the American. "You'll be watching Henderson's house Saturday. Your shift begins at midnight and ends at midnight on Sunday. Got it?"

Russ and Harry both nodded, with Harry adding a "Yes, sir."

"Weasley," Dawlish said. "You'll be partnered with Edwards, and you'll be working the same Saturday shift as Potter and Robinson. Understood?"

Ron groaned, but quailed under an icy glare from Brittany, a stern glare from Dawlish and a _'Don't do anything stupid' _look from Harry. "Yes, sir," Ron said. "Understood."

"Good," Dawlish said. "You four beginning Aurors will be paired with two teams of veteran Aurors. As for you, Abbot -- you'll be paired with Lee, working the shift from Sunday at midnight until Monday at midnight. All right?" Hannah nodded. "Good," Dawlish said. "Remember, all of you, to get plenty of rest before you begin your surveillance shifts. The shifts are 24 hours so long, so you'll need to be as rested as possible."

"Yes, sir," four of the five beginning Aurors said. Brittany had merely nodded, rolling her eyes, but Dawlish either failed to notice or pretended not to.

"Oh, this is going to be rotten," Ron muttered to Harry. "Can you believe I'm going to be paired with her?"

"Sorry mate," Harry said, giving him an apologetic look, "but better you than me."

"Thanks," Ron said darkly.

**Later…**

_Another dream. _

_Harry smiled at Hermione, her arm in his, as they walked around the lake at Hogwarts. "I have so many memories of this lake," he said. "Good and bad."_

"_I hope this falls under the category of a good one," Hermione said. _

_Harry laughed. "Absolutely," he said. "Much better than the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, at least. I was so terrified once I got down to where you all were and I realized I was only allowed to save Ron."_

"_Part of the rules, my dear," Hermione said. "But did you really think that they were going to leave us to the merpeople?"_

"_Yes," Harry said honestly. "I felt so stupid when I realized that of course they wouldn't."_

"_Ah, but at least you showed moral fiber," Hermione said. "I didn't say this at the time, but I always thought it was so noble of you to have wanted to save everybody. It was pretty…cute."_

"_Cute?" Harry asked in a tone that made it seem like Hermione had just called him ugly. "I'm…not sure what to make of being called cute. It's not the most masculine of words, is it?"_

"_Is that so?" Hermione said. "Well, then, I'll have to remember that the next time I think about calling you cute. _

"_That's right," Harry said. "Cute is just…I don't really know what it is. But it's not something I'm used to being called."_

"_Quite right," Hermione said. "Now I'll have to call you cute all the time. That way you'll be able to get used to it."_

_Harry separated his arm from Hermione's. "Oh, you're going to pay for that," he said._

"_Oh yeah?" she said. "Well, you'll have to catch me first." She dashed off, leaving Harry to chase after her. _

_He caught up to her before too long but lost his balance as he reached her, sending them both toppling to the ground._

"_Hm…" Harry said. "I do believe I caught you now."_

"_OK," Hermione answered. "So where's my comeuppance for calling you cute?"_

"_I'll get my revenge later," Harry said. "For now, I think I'm just going to kiss you."_

_And he did._

Another dream. And this time it had been even better than the last one, filled with romance. It was certainly much better than real life.

That made two dreams in the same day. Something was clearly up.

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror. She shouldn't be dreaming about Harry like this. This couldn't be good.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked.

Nobody answered.


	8. Watching the Watchers

-1**A/N: It's amazing how writing can invigorate you. I hadn't updated in nine months, but all of a sudden I'm on an updating binge. **

**Thanks to those who read and reviewed Chapter 7. I hope more people will do the same with this chapter, as I do appreciate every review I get.**

**Anyway, back to the story. **

**Chapter 8: Watching the watchers**

**Friday evening**

"Harry, are you sure you're all right?" Luna asked for the third time.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine," Harry said.

The two were out on another date, to dinner once more in London. Even though Harry was trying his hardest to concentrate on the date and his companion, he found his mind wandering elsewhere.

"…So then he offered me a million Galleons to kill you," Luna was saying, "and even though I do like you, that's too much money to turn down. So I poisoned your drink, and you'll die with the next sip."

"That's nice," Harry said absentmindedly, picking up his drink and taking a swig. Suddenly, his mind registered what she had said and he choked, spitting the drink out.

"Ah, so at least part of you was paying attention," Luna said. "That's good. I'm glad that I wasn't completely getting ignored, at least."

"I wasn't ignoring you," Harry argued, his cheeks turning red with ill-disguised embarrassment.

"I'd be interested in hearing what you call it, then," Luna said, eyebrows raised.

Harry flushed an even deeper shade of red. "I'm sorry," he said. "I suppose I'm not being good company tonight."

"Harry," Luna said, "as we've only been on a few dates, I'm not going to force you tell me everything that is going through your mind. That's not exactly proper because I certainly don't tell you everything that's going through my mind. But I would appreciate it if you didn't lie to me. That's more hurtful to me than you just not wanting to share."

"Sorry," Harry apologized again. "I guess I'm just distracted about my assignment tomorrow. I'm nervous."

"You shouldn't be," Luna said. "You're a natural Auror."

"I can't help it, I guess," Harry said. "It is my first real assignment."

"Well then, I suppose I'll have to otherwise distract you," Luna said. "What time do you have to leave for this assignment?"

"I have to be at headquarters by 10," Harry said.

"All right, then. Until, say, 9 or so I will consider it my job to get your mind off of this assignment. This is a job of the utmost importance, so you're going to have to trust me. How's that sound?"

"Sounds perfect," Harry said, smiling.

And it did. But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he was leading Luna on. She didn't deserve that; she was a great friend and a better woman. She deserved better than someone who was pining over someone who was engaged to another man.

But for now, Harry thought, he would try to make things work with Luna. He figured he'd be a heck of a lot happier if things worked out.

**Hogwarts**

Ron was beginning to tire of distracted people. He spent eight hours a day at work dealing with his best friend and his issues. Harry hadn't been his normal self for the past few days, and Ron was beginning to worry about him.

And now Hermione was acting the same way, as if her thoughts were 5,000 miles away from where the two of them currently were, sitting in Hermione's office at school. Ron frankly found it rather irritating.

It wasn't that he wanted all kinds of attention for himself. It was just that he would prefer it if his fiancee would at least attempt to be on the same planet as him.

He'd spent the past 20 minutes talking -- more accurately, rambling. He'd come to Hogwarts to spend time with Hermione before his stakeout assignment the next day and had found her in a state that would best be described as bordering on catatonic. His best attempts to get her to go somewhere with him had fallen on deaf ears, and he had resorted to his nervous babbling, with Hermione perhaps half-listening.

At last he stopped talking. Hermione finally appeared to take notice, lifting her head and frowning. _Oh, good,_ Ron thought. _A reaction._

"You've stopped talking," Hermione said.

"You noticed," Ron said. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd been Petrified again."

It was a joke, meant to lighten the tension that Ron could feel in the room. He hated that he could feel it. Unfortunately, the attempt fell flat. Instead of laughing or even cracking a slight smile, Hermione looked like she had been slapped by the comment. "And what's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"What do you think it means?" Ron said. "It means you've been acting like a zombie all night long. What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Hermione said. "Why does something have to be wrong with me? Why can't I just be tired and not feel like company? Did you ever think of that?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione -- we're supposed to be getting married!" Ron said. "Is it so bad of me to want to spend time with you? Take it into your calculations that we are supposed to be in love!"

"Now you stop that," Hermione said. "Don't you go insinuating that I don't love you just because I'm not chattering your ear off tonight."

"I don't expect you to chatter my ear off," Ron said. "I know that's not exactly your personality. I know I'm the talkative one in this relationship. But damn it, we don't get to spend a lot of time together! I'd like to make the most of the time we do get together, but instead you look like you wouldn't notice or care at all if I left right now!"

"I told you -- I'm tired. It's been a long week," Hermione said, getting angrier. "Why can't you accept that?"

"Merlin, everybody's tired these days," Ron said, his ears reddening as they did when he got angry. "It's being thrown around as an excuse for being lifeless. You're tired, Harry's tired. Hell, I'm tired too, but at least I make an attempt to act like a real person!"

"Well, I'm sorry if you can't accept that I'm a real person who feels real people things such as tiredness," Hermione said. "Maybe you should go spend time with people who more fit your definition of a 'real person.'"

"You know what?" Ron said, getting up and walking toward the door "That sounds like an excellent idea. That way you can get your rest, what with you being so tired and all."

With that, he slammed out of the room. Hermione found herself shaking, but didn't know which emotion was causing it. Anger, fear, confusion -- or a combination of the three.

So Ron hadn't failed to notice her distracted state. He wasn't the only one: Minerva and Neville had both commented about it to her today. She had brushed them off with the same excuse: exhaustion. Neither had seemed to believe her, but they didn't push her any further.

Hermione knew the reason for her distraction, and it wasn't exhaustion. It was confusion over her continued dreams and what they meant.

Ron had said Harry was distracted too. She wondered why, and momentarily entertained the notion that he too was having odd dreams. But she pushed that possibility aside, figuring she knew why Harry was distracted.

Harry was falling for Luna. That was the reason for his distraction, no doubt.

And Hermione didn't know how she felt about that fact.

**Surveillance Headquarters**

**Scotland**

It was a chilly night for September, and Russ Robinson shivered. As much time as he'd spent in the U.K., he still thought he'd never get used to the weather. He'd grown up in California of the United States, and it had been warm there. This was a different story.

He looked around at the landscape, which consisted of nothing but trees. The surveillance headquarters, a relatively plain log cabin, had been somewhat hastily assembled in the woods so as to avoid notice by the suspect. Russ doubted it mattered much. If Henderson was as intelligent and well-connected as the case report made it seem, it was likely he already knew he was being watched. Trees probably wouldn't keep him from finding headquarters if he really wanted to.

Russ shook his head, trying to get rid of that thought. It made him nervous, a feeling he wasn't very familiar with and didn't really like. He had always thrived on taking advantage of others' nerves; now someone else, someone with considerable power, could end up doing the same to him.

Still trying to separate himself from bad thoughts, Russ entered headquarters.

His jaw dropped.

What he saw impressed him, and Russ Robinson was not an easy man to impress. He'd thought the cabin looked plain on the outside, and it had. But inside was another story.

It was somewhat like the experience he had the first time he'd stepped inside a wizarding tent and seen how different it was from a Muggle one, almost four times larger with all kinds of amenities.

Here was a similar situation. The cabin, though larger on the inside than it appeared to be on the outside, was packed with Aurors. All kinds of surveillance equipment and plans were spread on the walls and tables. He could hear periodic updates from the teams currently in the field.

Russ grinned. This was what he had signed up for. Not endless paperwork, not annoying co-workers like that smartass Weasley, not overbearing bosses like Dawlish. But _this --_ the exhilaration of being in the field, seeing others hard at work, getting ready to do what he loved most, trying to catch dark wizards -- this was better than any other job in the world.

His thoughts were interrupted by the slamming of the door behind him. He turned around in annoyance to see -- who else? -- Weasley.

The redhead had a look of anger on his face, but that seemed to evaporate as he too took in the surroundings, fascinated. "Bloody hell," he said.

Russ noticed he was staring at the same moment Weasley did. "What are you looking at, Robinson?" Ron asked, some of his anger returning.

Russ shrugged. Better not to get in an argument with someone you would be spending the next 24 hours near. He'd let someone else deal with Weasley.

Russ spent the next several minutes wandering around, keeping a safe distance between Weasley and himself.

He checked his watch: 9:45. He'd arrived about half an hour early, mainly because he hadn't been able to sit still at home. That had always been a problem of his; he never could wait for things to happen. People at school had seen him as impatient, too impatient. Therefore, he hadn't had many friends in school. But he wasn't about to cry about that; after all, he was here now, much better off than the people who had snubbed him in his school days.

The sound of the door opening again woke him from his reverie. Harry Potter had arrived. Noticing Russ' glance, Harry waved. Russ nodded back. He was beginning to see mutual respect between Harry and himself, and maybe even the beginnings of some friendship.

Harry, meanwhile, found himself more in tune with himself and his surroundings than he had in quite some time. His date with Luna had ended great, and he was in high spirits as he arrived at headquarters.

After waving to his partner, he noticed his best friend by himself in a corner. Walking over, Harry felt his good mood start to fade as he noticed his best friend's obvious bad mood. Ron sat sullenly, arms folded with a scowl on his face. Harry wondered what the problem was. Hopefully, whatever it was, it wouldn't affect Ron during this mission.

"Problems?" Harry asked Ron as he arrived in front of his friend.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron said, slumping down further in his seat. Harry suspected he was doing his best to not be noticed. He was failing, too, as eyes flicked over to Ron every so often.

Harry shrugged. "Have it your way, mate," he said. "But as a friendly warning, I'd say you should try to get whatever your problem is out of your system now. You don't want it to jeopardize your concentration tonight."

Ron sighed. "I'm beginning to think I shouldn't even bother anymore. All it does is give me heartburn."

"Are you sure that's not just your diet?" Harry joked, trying to make his friend smile instead of sulk.

It didn't work. Ron just frowned at him. "I'm really not in the mood for jokes right now," he said. "Hope that's all right with you."

"Yeah, fine," Harry said, sitting down. He knew his friend had planned to spend the evening with Hermione before coming here, and his mood certainly suggested an argument between the two.

That knowledge didn't exactly make Harry feel overjoyed. Whatever his feelings were toward Hermione, he still wasn't rooting for problems between her and Hermione. Above all, he wanted his best friends to be happy.

He sat in silence next to his friend until 10:15 p.m., when Dawlish approached the group with Russ in tow. Harry didn't see Brittany anywhere and wondered where she was.

"All right," Dawlish said in his gruff voice, "We can't wait forever for Ms. Edwards to show up, so I'm going to go over the briefing now."

The door opened, then slammed shut again. Sure enough, it was Brittany. Ron rolled his eyes, Russ looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, Harry looked down, half-amused, and Dawlish waved her over, looking mad enough to curse something (or perhaps someone).

"Nice of you to join us," Dawlish said when she made her way over to the group. Brittany looked unabashed by the chief Auror's tone, merely blinking at him.

Dawlish looked like he was going to say something else but caught himself. "All right, let's do the briefing upstairs, shall we?" he asked.

"Are the other two teams going to join us?" Russ asked.

"No, this briefing is mainly to go over surveillance protocol," Dawlish said. "I will update you on the case, but the other teams have already been apprised. Let's go upstairs then, shall we?"

Upstairs, Dawlish shut the door in a small study-like room. Motioning the group to sit down, he strode over to a desk along the far wall and pulled out what looked to be plans.

"All right then," he continued, walking back toward the group. "As this is the first time on location for the lot of you, there are certain department procedures you need to learn. All right?"

Receiving four nods, Dawlish continued. "Right. Your shifts, as I told you the other day, will begin at midnight sharp and end at midnight sharp. In the 24 hours in between, I expect each one of you to devote every inch of yourself to the task at hand. This man -- Roy Henderson -- is good at covering his tracks. We have been trying to pin something on him for years and haven't been able to.

"I'm telling you this because we can't afford to miss anything in any of our shifts. Anything we witness could be the one thing we can use to take him down. That makes it extremely important, therefore, that we witness it. We can't miss our chance to take Henderson down because one of you had to go on a bathroom break. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the four Aurors said. Dawlish nodded, then paused, thinking over his words before he spoke again.

"We must watch Henderson at all times. We must also watch his house at all times. When he's in the house, that enables all four teams to watch both. But when he leaves, two teams have to follow and two teams have to stay behind. It is at those times that you must keep extra notice, as you'll be missing four extra pairs of eyes.

"Robinson and Potter," Dawlish continued, "You'll be tailing him along with Thompson and Jackson if he leaves the house. Weasley and Edwards, you'll be staying behind with Jones and Knight. We don't know if he'll be leaving the house today, but it always makes sense to plan ahead.

"He has two meetings tomorrow that we've found out about from our surveillance. One is at 2 p.m., and the other will be at 6. Keep extra vigilant while those meetings are taking place. It is our suspicion that any one of these meetings could be about illegal business practices.

"That's all," Dawlish said. He turned to leave, but when he reached the door, he turned back.

"Oh," he added, "and good luck. You'll need it." With that he left, shutting the door behind him.

The room was silent.

"Bloody hell," Ron said finally. "Anyone want to back out now?"

Nobody responded.

"Guess that's my answer," Ron said.

**11:50 p.m.**

The group had spent the past hour or so in that small upstairs room in various states of nervous anticipation.

Russ had been pacing for much of the time, ignoring repeated annoyed huffs coming from the direction of Brittany, who had sat polishing and filing her nails. With every change in direction, Russ absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair.

Ron sat reclined in his chair, staring at the ceiling and sometimes fiddling with a loose string on the sleeve of his dark robes. Every once in a while he would glance at the door, waiting for Dawlish to come and tell them to prepare for Apparition to the surveillance site.

While the other three had engaged in those nervous tics, Harry had sat with his head in his hands, deep in thought. While he had done his best at first to keep his mind focused on the mission, his thoughts kept slipping elsewhere, to a place he didn't want them to be, especially not tonight. He just wanted to get the mission started so he could focus on something, anything else.

After a time that had felt more like five hours than just one, the door swung open. The four Aurors' attentions immediately became focused on the woman who had opened the door. It was a veteran Auror who Harry recognized but didn't know the name of.

"OK," she said. "It's time."

Downstairs, the group met up with the other two teams, veteran Aurors whom Harry had seen around headquarters in London but hadn't actually met. He stood between Russ and Ron, looking at the other Aurors, studying their faces.

"All right," Dawlish said, "It's nearly time to go to the site. Remember to use Silent Apparition. Now, it's time you were introduced. Rookies, the vets know who you are, but you don't know them. You should be introduced.

"I'm Simon Thompson," said a dark-haired, dark-eyed man with sharp features. Harry thought he rather looked like a vampire; he certainly had the "mysterious" quality down.

"Elizabeth Jackson," said the woman standing next to Thompson, a redheaded woman who could have been mistaken for a long-lost Weasley relative. Heck, for all Harry knew, she could be.

"William Jones," said a man with blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He smiled at the group, revealing a set of perfect teeth. _Great,_ Harry thought. _A Gilderoy Lockhart clone._

"Name's Joshua Knight," said the fourth Auror, a man with blondish-brown hair and blue eyes hidden behind square wire frames. Harry thought he looked like a nerd, quite unassuming for an Auror. _Of course, _he figured, _I probably look just about the same._

"All right, good -- now that introductions are done, we can get down to work," Dawlish said. "Remember to send updates every so often, especially if you think something's going on that we should be notified of. The teams on duty today haven't reported anything out of the ordinary, but keep alert. You never know what will happen. Got it?"

Receiving eight nods, Dawlish nodded back. "OK. You know what to do."

Harry closed his eyes, visualizing the surveillance site as he prepared to use the silent Apparition technique they had all learned in training. He felt the pinch of Apparition begin, and when he opened his eyes he found himself outside once more, hidden in the trees surrounding perhaps the largest house he had ever seen.

He saw Robinson out of the corner of his eye and nodded, receiving a gesture of acknowledgment in return from the American. The other Aurors were with their team members, spread out around the house, which was currently dark.

"All right," Harry muttered. "Here goes nothing."

**Elsewhere**

_The plotter was freezing cold, but that couldn't distract him from the giddiness he was feeling at the moment. _

_He was nearer than they knew. It gave him great pleasure to know Potter had no inkling that he was so close. Some Auror Potter was, he thought. Of course, perhaps he was being too harsh on Scarhead. After all, none of the other Aurors knew he was here either. But Potter's ignorance gave him the most satisfaction._

_The plotter had braved the unseasonably cold weather in Scotland to do exactly what these Aurors were doing: surveillance. Only he wasn't watching Roy Henderson._

_No, he was studying the Aurors, one in particular. He was observing Potter, searching for things to exploit. And, he had to admit, it was a fruitful task._

_While Potter was overall a strong wizard (who could deny it?), the plotter had noticed weaknesses in the Boy-Who-Lived. He wasn't infallible; no wizard was. It was just a matter of hitting him where he was weakest, and the plotter knew where that was. After all, because of the plotter's extensive observation and research into the Boy-Who-Lived, he believed he knew Potter better than Potter knew himself. _

_The plotter honestly didn't have to be in Scotland on this night, but he thought he would enjoy seeing the Aurors fail at their task. _

_You see, the plotter knew what the Aurors didn't. He knew Roy Henderson wasn't a threat. Far from it, in fact. While Henderson excelled in petty crime, in all actuality he wasn't a major player in the world of dark wizards. To be honest, he was a nothing._

_The plotter, on the other hand, was not a nothing. In fact, he was a major threat. The Aurors didn't know that yet. _

_But they would soon, and by extension so would Potter._


	9. The Witching Hour

-1**A/N: Yikes. After nearly a year without an update, I've decided to come back to this story because it just felt wrong to abandon it. First of all, let me apologize for being a bad author. It's my job to keep plugging away at a story, no matter how frustrated I get over lack of reviews. That was the main issue, I guess; I just didn't feel appreciated enough. That's selfish, and it's not fair to people who have read the story and given me feedback.**

**So if you all can forgive me for my faults, I'd like to continue this story. If all goes well, I'd like to update on a weekly basis, but we all know what happens to the best-laid plans sometimes.**

**Again, I hope you forgive me for my lack of updates. I really do apologize, especially to those of you who have read and reviewed.**

**And now, let's get back to the story. Maybe I'll be a better storyteller after a year off; I guess we'll see.**

---------------

**Anything But Ordinary**

**Chapter 9: The Witching Hour**

**---------------**

_The nearly 100-year-old mansion sat quietly in the early-morning hours, but the plotter didn't care. He wasn't interested in the house; he was interested in the people watching it … or, more specifically, one person._

_For three hours, the plotter had stayed hidden in the dense forest that surrounded the house. He knew the four teams of Aurors were spread out in the forest, surrounding the house. But right now, they were watching an empty house, and they didn't even know it._

_But the plotter knew it. The plotter knew everything. Henderson wasn't even home at the moment; he'd left nearly an hour before these Auror teams had gotten on duty. Perhaps Henderson wasn't a complete fool. Or, more likely, perhaps it was because the Aurors failed to meet even the plotter's exceedingly low expectations of their surveillance skills._

_The plotter knew the exact positions of every team of Aurors. That information had been easy to find out in advance, given his insider's knowledge of the Ministry of Magic. As it turned out, however, he needn't have bothered. The Aurors weren't exactly making themselves invisible out here; even above the sounds of the chilly September wind, he could hear a distinctive voice._

_The plotter rolled his eyes. It was that ridiculous Edwards girl. The plotter had no idea how the idiot had even passed the Auror exams, but perhaps the fact that she had was proof of the Auror program's low standards. _

_Another example? Edwards' surveillance partner, that loathsome Weasley character. The man had sailed through school by riding his best friend's coattails, and now he seemed determined to do the same in his career._

_As for Potter … well, even the plotter had to admit Potter was good at staying hidden in his surveillance. The plotter was close to Potter … very close, in fact … and Potter hadn't made a move or a sound since he had gotten on duty three hours before. _

_But Potter didn't matter tonight. Tonight, the plotter had a different target in mind. _

---------------

As he lay on his stomach in the forest surrounding Roy Henderson's mansion, Ron wondered if spontaneous combustion was actually possible. If so, it certainly was an appealing option to him at this moment.

He glanced quickly to his left. Brittany was jabbering away, as she had been since they had arrived in the forest three hours before. Ron saw her mouth moving, but he didn't hear what she was saying because he was studiously ignoring her.

Ron didn't consider himself a rude person. He just didn't care to listen to any of Brittany's babbling. In an attempt to be polite, he had tried to listen to Brittany for the first half-hour of their shift. But when her talking didn't cease after that half-hour, he stopped caring and tuned her out, turning his attention instead to the house.

Not that staring at the house was any better. In the past three hours, Ron hadn't seen movement once. Most likely, this Henderson guy was sleeping … _as normal people should be at this hour,_ he thought, yawning.

Ron pushed the thought out of his head. All night, he'd been trying to avoid thinking about sleep because it would only lead to him getting tired. He'd also been ignoring the gnawing hunger in his stomach. He hadn't eaten in hours, which was extremely unusual for him, and he could hear his stomach rumble every once in a while. It was maddening.

And still Brittany prattled on. Ron closed his eyes in frustration, feeling the annoyance bubble up inside him. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Will you shut up?!" he said, annoyed. "You're driving me 'round the bend."

"Well, excuse me," Brittany huffed, but she stopped talking. Rolling his eyes heavenward, Ron mouthed the word, "Thank you."

"I heard that," Brittany said.

Ron rolled his eyes again. One thing was for sure: It was going to be a long night.

---------------

At the rear of the house, Harry was having a different experience entirely than his best friend.

In the three hours Harry had been hiding in the trees with Russ, Robinson hadn't spoken once -- and neither had Harry. Harry was glad he was partnered with Russ; the American may have been a stick in the mud, but he seemed to understand the magnitude of the mission and acted accordingly. _Better that than having Brittany for a partner, _Harry thought, feeling sorry for his best mate. He wondered if Ron was contemplating murder right now.

Almost unconsciously, Harry shivered. He definitely didn't want to be thinking about murder right now. It seemed … morbid … to do so while staking out the house of a known criminal.

Therefore, pushing such thoughts out of his head, Harry chanced a sidelong glance at his partner. Russ was staring intently at the mansion, his blue eyes fixed on the window of what they knew was Henderson's bedroom. Harry was concentrating his attention on the first floor of the house and the back door, keeping an eye out for any possible visitors. So far, however, there had been nothing, and Harry wondered if that would continue to be the case.

He surreptitiously looked at his watch. It read 3:02 a.m. Right now, he knew, Simon Thompson was giving Dawlish and the other chief Aurors an update on how the stakeout was going. The Aurors on surveillance would take turns doing so every three hours. Harry's report time was 6:00 a.m., and unless something drastic happened in the next three hours, he would have nothing to report.

Harry smothered a yawn with his right hand and glanced through his Omnioculars at the house. There was still nothing going on. If Harry had to bet, he would guess Henderson was fast asleep in the house right now. He felt momentarily jealous, then shook away that feeling as if it was a stray fly landing on his arm. _I may not be asleep right now, but at least nobody's watching me,_ he thought. _Although …_

Harry couldn't explain it, but he'd had a nagging feeling he was being watched all night. He knew he had no good reason to suspect that, as the Aurors' current location was labeled top secret, except more classified. But for some reason he couldn't shake the feeling. He'd glanced around the forest numerous times that night and hadn't spotted anything or anybody … but then, he supposed, it would be extremely easy for someone to stay hidden from view in this forest. _All these trees, after all, _he thought.

He shook away that thought too. It wouldn't do to turn into Mad-Eye Moody, convinced that every rustling leaf was a possible attempted homicide. He was probably just nervous because this was his first field assignment.

He snorted quietly. How embarrassing: The Boy-Who-Lived was now scared of trees. Hopefully the Daily Prophet would remain blissfully unaware of that. He'd been featured in enough headlines like that to last a lifetime … or several lifetimes.

---------------

After three more hours that felt instead like three hundred, Harry realized it was time to go make his report. He looked over at Robinson; the American's gaze hadn't wavered from where it had been three hours before. Privately, Harry wondered if Russ had even _blinked_ in the past three hours.

He spoke quietly. "Time to go make the report." Russ momentarily looked away from the house, gazing intently at Harry instead, but he didn't say anything. Harry continued. "You all right on your own?"

Still, Russ said nothing. Then, in a motion so quick that Harry would have missed it if he had blinked, Robinson inclined his head slightly and lowered it. It was the smallest nod Harry had ever seen, but he got the message.

Harry struggled to his feet; sometime during the six hours he'd been laying, nearly motionless, on his stomach, his right leg had fallen asleep. He shook it quickly to get the feeling back, then brushed stray leaves from his robe.

"OK," he said to Russ. "How do I look? Impressive?"

Robinson shrugged. Harry sighed as he pictured headquarters, then Disapparated, reappearing just outside the front door.

He shook his head before he went inside. "I just had to get stuck with someone who doesn't talk."

---------------

As he saw the minute hand on his watch tick just past six o'clock, Ron thought he rather missed the good ol' days when his partner annoyed him with her babbling.

As it was, the two of them had spent the past three hours stubbornly not talking to each other, the only sound being the slight "whoosh" of the wind through the trees.

Ron knew his partner was angry with him for telling her to shut up hours earlier, but he didn't much care. He did wish that she would say something, though … he would rather hear about her many boyfriend problems than receive the silent treatment.

He glanced again through his Omnioculars. Nothing was happening … what a shock. In all, he was beginning to regret his career choice. He'd joined for the action, the excitement, the feeling of fighting dark wizards and winning. He certainly hadn't joined so he could freeze his arse off in the middle of a bloody forest.

He looked again at his watch: 6:05. There were still 18 hours left in this bloody surveillance shift, and it felt like it would never end. He considered himself lucky he would only have to do this once a week. But he still wished something would happen.

_Snap._

Ron froze, his Omnioculars halfway to his eyes. Surely he hadn't imagined that. He glanced at Brittany, verifying that she had heard it too. She had; she'd already drawn her wand, looking businesslike. As Aurors, it was their responsibility to investigate anything suspicious, and surely a twig snapping in the otherwise silent forest qualified.

Slowly, they got to their feet.

"Did you hear where it came from?" Ron asked quietly. She shook her head, peering around the trunks of the numerous trees that surrounded them. Ron copied her, looking through narrowed eyes at the many trees. He didn't see anything, and looking at her, saw that she hadn't either.

Ron shrugged. "Probably an animal or something like – "

He was cut off by a jet of red light from behind that narrowly avoided hitting him; as it was, he heard and felt it zip past him, inches away from his right ear.

He whirled quickly, brandishing his wand and bellowing, "Prote– "

It was too late: The jet of red light was already zooming toward his chest. Before he could finish the Shield Charm, Ron felt the spell hit him.

Then everything went black.

---------------

Harry was in the midst of giving his report to Dawlish and Gregory Keys, his top lieutenant, when an alarm went off in headquarters.

Dawlish sprang to his feet immediately. "Class 1 breach in the forest. Someone's shooting off curses in Ward 3!"

Harry froze. That was Ron's ward.

Dawlish was speaking directly into his wand now. "Team, you are to report immediately to Ward 3. Something's going on." He turned to Harry. "That means you. Now."

"But sir," he began.

"_Now, _Potter," Dawlish ordered.

Heart pounding, Harry Apparated to the east side of the house, where he knew Ron and Brittany were keeping watch. He grasped his wand in his hand, prepared to start shooting off curses as soon as he appeared in the forest.

But when he arrived, the fight, if there had been one, was over. He spotted the other Aurors clustered around something … or someone … that was lying on the ground. He rushed over.

Simon Thompson was kneeling on the ground by what Harry now recognized as Brittany's prone form. She looked to be in bad shape; her robes were torn and dirty, and blood was streaming from a cut above her left eye. She seemed to be unconscious. Thompson was muttering medical spells, trying to staunch the bleeding. At last, he succeeded and the wound closed.

"Is she – " Harry began, then stopped. He didn't want to finish the question, fearing the answer.

"She'll be fine," Thompson answered. "She'll likely need some time in hospital, though."

"What happened?" Harry asked. This time, he didn't receive an answer. Looking around, Harry began to feel panicked. He didn't see his best mate.

"Where's Ron?" he asked, cursing the shaking in his voice.

This time, Robinson answered. "I was first here. He wasn't here when I arrived."

Harry paled. "But that means…" He trailed off, seeing his fellow Aurors nodding, confirming his unfinished statement. Swallowing, Harry completed the statement in his head.

_Ron's missing._

---------------

_The plotter couldn't help his feeling of giddiness as he watched the Aurors in the clearing, particularly Potter._

_He had bided his time until Potter had left for headquarters, then made his move. It hadn't been hard to subdue Weasley and Edwards, but then he hadn't expected it to be. Both of them had been unconscious by the time the Aurors arrived on the scene, and Weasley was stowed away where nobody could find him for the time being. Soon, he would be moved to where nobody could find him, period._

_He watched as the various Aurors arrived, waiting for the one he knew would arrive last. He'd delighted in seeing the look on Potter's face when he realized his best friend was missing. It was all he could do to keep from cackling and exposing himself. Now wasn't the time to reveal himself. It was far better to stick to his plan._

_He grinned as the Aurors began to search the forest. They wouldn't find him. Not now, at least … and certainly not in time to save his life._

---------------

Early on Saturday morning, a solitary figure Apparated onto High Street in Hogsmeade. Though he remembered the town well from his days at Hogwarts, his visit today was far from a happy one.

Looking around carefully, the man began the long walk to Hogwarts castle, the towers of which were visible above the trees in the Forbidden Forest. Nobody else was on the streets of Hogsmeade at this hour, which the figure was thankful for. It was far better to have nobody there to distract him from his task.

His task. That was enough to make him pause for a moment before resuming his steady gait toward the castle.

The figure wished he could avoid this task, but he couldn't. He had a direct order from Dawlish, and he was bound by his job to follow it.

Still, he dreaded it. He didn't want to see the look on her face when he told her that her fiancé was missing. He had no idea how he could break the news to her gently. It just wasn't possible.

The figure glanced upward once more and did a double-take. Lost in his thoughts, he had already traveled half the distance to the castle. He put his head down and kept walking; though he loved this place more than any other, he wished he were somewhere else this morning.

As he neared the castle, the figure reached into his rucksack and felt around for something -- not for his wand, but for something else. Feeling the familiar material of his cloak, he took it out and slipped it on.

And if anyone had been watching from the castle, they would have noticed the figure vanish into thin air.

---------------

_BANG._

Hermione awoke with a start to the sound of pounding on the door to her chambers. Thinking it could just be Peeves playing a prank – he did so sometimes, for "fun" – she decided to ignore it. She closed her eyes, hoping to get at least a bit more sleep. She'd been having such a good dream, too.

_BANG. BANG. _

Hermione's eyes popped open. This time, there was no ignoring it: Peeves was generally the "knock once and leave" type, not the persistent pounder that this person seemed to be. She sat up slowly, grabbing her wand from the nightstand as she got out of bed.

_BANG. BANG. BANG. _

"Just a second!" Hermione said, still wondering who would be banging on her door at this hour. It was … she checked her watch … 7:37 a.m. That was far too early on a Saturday morning for any normal visitor.

_BANG. BANG. BANG. _

"I said just a moment!" Hermione said, rushing to the door. Whoever this visitor was, she planned to berate them for acting so rudely at such an early hour. She peered through the peephole and frowned.

_There was nobody there._

"What in the world?" Hermione asked, turning away from the door.

_BANG. BANG. BANG._

Hermione jumped. Something was going on. She went back to the door and opened it a crack, surveying the hallway to see if she could spot anyone. She couldn't.

All of a sudden, a familiar-looking head materialized from thin air. Hermione jumped again, then laughed in relief.

"Merlin, Harry, you gave me a fright," Hermione said, watching her best friend peel off his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione noticed at once that something was troubling him.

Pushing aside her confusion at why he had come to Hogwarts instead of talking to her by Floo, Hermione opened the door wide for Harry to enter. He did so, barely, stopping just inside the doorway. "Aren't you supposed to be on duty today, watching that dark wizard? I thought that's what Ron told me last night, though I admit I was distracted so I could have misunderstood."

"Hermione," he said softly, interrupting her. She trailed off, seeing with alarm the grim look on his face.

"What is it?" she asked, feeling panic rush into her stomach. "What's wrong?"

"It's Ron," he said, raising his gaze to hers.

The panic was gone, replaced by a boulder-sized lump of dread. "What about Ron?" she heard herself choke out.

Harry sighed. "He's missing."

**A/N: I know I would deserve it if I didn't get any reviews, but please do me a favor and let me know what you thought of this chapter. I'll love you forever if you do.**


	10. Guilt

-1**A/N: Wow. **

**That's the best way I can describe my feelings right now. I'm utterly blown away at the response I received to Chapter 9. You guys are just incredible, and I really appreciate that.**

**I'm sorry for the 10-day wait between Chapters 9 and 10. I got hit with a bit of writer's block and just overcame it tonight. In the future, look out for updates every Saturday evening; that's when I plan to update the story. I also have another story, _Don't Stay, _that I update every Tuesday evening … just in case you're interested in reading that.**

**Anyway, this chapter deals with the fallout from the end of last chapter … and you'd better believe there's fallout. You'll probably notice the plotter missing from this chapter; you might not see his point-of-view for another few chapters, actually. This chapter marks the halfway point in this story, so I hope you enjoy it.**

**Well, that's enough of me talking. Let's get back to the story.**

---------------

**Anything But Ordinary**

**Chapter 10: Guilt**

---------------

"_He's missing."_

The words thundered through Hermione's mind, echoing over and over until she thought she would go mad.

Perhaps she _was _going mad, to believe this story of Harry's. There was no way it could be true, after all. Ron couldn't be missing; he just couldn't. This was some kind of sick joke Harry was playing on her. Ron had probably put him up to it, to get back at her for their fight. Yes, that's what it was … revenge. She couldn't believe Ron would stoop that low.

But she knew her mind was just grasping at alternative explanations. Ron wouldn't fake a disappearance just to get back at her. And even if he would, Harry wouldn't go along with it.

No, the only reasonable explanation was that Harry was telling the truth. Ron … her fiancé … was missing.

Hermione suddenly found herself unable to stand, and barely able to breathe. She staggered backward, sinking onto her bed. The entire time, she was looking at her best friend, hoping for a sign, any sign, that what he was telling her wasn't true. But she didn't like what she saw.

Harry hadn't spoken since telling Hermione the news; he hadn't even moved from his spot in the doorway to her staff quarters. He was looking right at Hermione, a clear expression of sorrow marking his features. She was especially drawn to the look in his eyes; the normal spark was missing from his piercing green eyes. For lack of a better term, Harry looked dead to the world.

Hermione knew that look very well. She'd seen it in his eyes before numerous times. When Cedric died, for example. Not do mention when Sirius died. Or Dumbledore. Or the numerous friends who died during the final battle at Hogwarts. Hermione also knew what the look meant: Harry was clearly blaming himself for what had happened to Ron.

She took a deep breath. She needed to find out more about what had happened.

"How did it happen?" she asked, trying not to choke on the words. She needed to stay as calm as possible; otherwise, she would completely lose it.

Harry just shook his head. "I wish I could tell you," he said, "but nobody really knows. It seems he and his partner were ambushed by someone while they were conducting surveillance on a target's house."

"That's it?" Hermione asked. "That's all you can tell me?"

"That's all we know," Harry said.

"I refuse to believe that," Hermione said, her tone flat. "My fiancé is missing, and that's all you can tell me?" She felt her anger start to boil up -- anger at Ron for being missing and at Harry for allowing it to happen. She knew the anger was wrong, but she didn't care. "Well, maybe you should leave, Harry. Then maybe you can go find some more answers -- and I don't want to see you again until you have!"

Harry flinched, but nodded. He turned to leave, then turned back.

"We'll find him, Hermione," he said. "I promise."

She had already turned her back on him. "You'd better," she spat. "Otherwise…"

She didn't finish the thought, but Harry nodded, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

Hermione waited a few more seconds, wanting to be sure that he was gone. Then the mask crumbled. She flopped backward onto the bed and finally let the tears come.

It would be quite some time before they stopped.

---------------

If Henry Dawlish had ever had a worse day in his life, he couldn't remember it.

He'd been honored when he had received the promotion to chief Auror after two and a half decades of decorated service for the department. Minister Shacklebolt had called it a "long-deserved promotion." Now, Dawlish wished the promotion had gone to someone else.

He had returned to his office at 8 a.m., less than two hours after Ron Weasley had gone missing while on assignment. When he'd arrived, there was already a message on his desk from Shacklebolt, requesting a meeting _as soon as possible. _

Dawlish knew what that meant: "Get your arse up to my office. Now." He sighed, leaving the office as quickly as he'd gone in and heading toward the lift.

He knew why the Minister was requesting … no, ordering … a meeting. Whenever an Auror went missing, it was cause for alarm. All Aurors knew a high amount of classified information, so it was a concern that they might divulge that information under torture. Missing Aurors took top priority over other cases for that reason.

Dawlish felt partially grateful that the Auror captured in this case was not a veteran Auror, one who had a wealth of classified knowledge. Weasley was a newbie, an Auror with just a few weeks of experience under his belt, so he likely couldn't give much away.

Dawlish doubted that Weasley had been captured for information purposes anyway. He was more likely captured as a message … or as an attempt to collect ransom. Dawlish knew death was a very likely possibility for Weasley in both scenarios. But deaths could be overcome. The spread of classified information could not.

At last, he reached the lift. Thankfully, it was empty on this Saturday morning -- while the Ministry didn't completely shut down on the weekends, there were much fewer employees there at just after 8:00 on the weekends.

He rode down in silence, lost in his thoughts. Shacklebolt would not be pleased about Weasley's disappearance. The Minister had been one of the best Aurors in the department's history before his promotion; now, he was looked at as a steadying figure in the wizarding world. He was immensely popular as Minister thanks to his cool and collected demeanor, which he rarely lost. Dawlish wondered if Weasley's disappearance would make the Minister lose that cool demeanor.

He soon found out. Before long, the lift clattered to a stop and the cool female voice rang out: "Level one -- Minister of Magic and Support Staff."

Dawlish shivered; he'd always thought the disembodied voice was creepy. But before he could ruminate on that further, the doors swung open, revealing the Minister on the other side.

"Good morning, Minister," Dawlish said nervously. He was irritated at being called up on the carpet like this, but he couldn't maintain that demeanor around Shacklebolt. Though the two had been partners once, Shacklebolt had always intimidated him.

"Dawlish," was all Shacklebolt said in greeting. He stepped aside, allowing the Chief Auror to exit the lift. Without saying anything else, the Minister of Magic turned and walked toward his office. Dawlish hurried to keep up with the Minister's long strides.

When they'd arrived, Shacklebolt shut the door with a flick of his wand and put up a Silencing Charm. Then he turned to Dawlish again.

"Sit," he said, gesturing toward a chair on one side of his large oak desk. Dawlish obliged without a word; clearly, the Minister wasn't in the mood for small talk this morning. After a glance to verify that Dawlish had followed his orders, Shacklebolt sat down in his own chair behind the desk. The Minister steepled his fingers together and looked across the desk at Dawlish.

"Well?" was all he said.

"Weasley went missing shortly after six o'clock this morning," Dawlish said. "We believe he and his partner were ambushed. She's at St. Mungo's getting treatment; we expect she'll recover fully. She hasn't yet regained consciousness, so we haven't had a chance to question her about the disappearance."

"And the other Aurors on assignment this morning?" Shacklebolt asked.

"We pulled them all out," Dawlish said. "They'll be debriefed later today to see if any of them have anything to add. But for the time being, we've had to scrap surveillance. Someone obviously knew we were there."

"What's the status of the investigation into Weasley's disappearance?" Shacklebolt asked next.

"We've combed the immediate surrounding area. I'm sorry to say we found nothing. Whoever it was knew the location well. There are no traces of what may have happened to Weasley, magical or otherwise."

"Suspects?"

"The obvious one is Roy Henderson. We were watching his house, after all. Outside of him, we've got nothing yet."

The Minister frowned. "This is unsatisfactory. You have no leads at all?"

"To be fair," Dawlish protested, "he only went missing a couple of hours ago, Minister."

"Which, as you know, is an extremely long amount of time in missing person's cases, Dawlish!" The Minister's voice had finally broken away from its usual calm, steady tone. He was angry. "How could this happen? You swore up and down to me that knowledge about this surveillance operation was secure, that nothing could happen to harm the operation. And yet this morning, an Auror goes missing and you have no idea where he is, who might have done it or how it may have occurred! And the best excuse you can give me is that it only happened two hours ago? For all you know, Weasley has already spilled secrets about classified Auror operations. Or, worse, he could be dead."

Dawlish said nothing. It wasn't often he felt cowed, but he did right now.

The Minister spoke again. "Who else was in the field when Weasley went missing?"

"Thompson, Jackson, Jones and Knight were the veteran Aurors involved in surveillance today," Dawlish said. "Weasley was teamed with Edwards, and Robinson and Potter were the other newbie team."

The Minister looked up sharply. "Potter?" he asked. "He was involved in the operation?"

"Yes, Minister," Dawlish said. "We sent him to break the news to Weasley's fiancée."

"Yes, of course," Shacklebolt said, deep in thought. "He would be the right person for that job, seeing as how close those three are.

"Dawlish," the Minister said, suddenly more alert.

"Yes, sir?"

"I want you to do what you can to bring in Henderson and find out what he knows about Weasley's disappearance. As you said, he is the primary suspect."

"Understood," said Dawlish, beginning to rise.

"But I doubt he knows anything about it," Shacklebolt said.

"Sir?" Dawlish said, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't think Henderson is responsible," the Minister said.

"But sir," Dawlish said, frowning. He'd stopped halfway through getting up from his chair -- he was now in an awkward leaning position over Shacklebolt's desk. "If not Henderson, then who?"

Shacklebolt said just two words in response, but those two words were enough to chill the Chief Auror.

"_Inside job."_

---------------

"So you're sure you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all?"

Russ Robinson was annoyed. He was currently sitting inside Dawlish's office, feeling like a schoolchild called down to the principal's office. Robinson hated that feeling; he thought he was supposed to be an adult, and here Dawlish was, treating him and the other Aurors like children.

The reason for this visit to Dawlish's office was ostensibly a debriefing about what had happened to Weasley earlier that morning. But what he was getting was the same question asked over and over by Dawlish, as if his answers would change within a two-minute span.

Russ sighed. "As I've told you, sir, Harry left to make the report to you at six o'clock. Shortly after he left, I heard noises coming from the east side of the house, where I knew Weasley and Edwards were stationed. I went to investigate, and when I arrived, Edwards was unconscious and Weasley was missing."

"What were the noises you heard?" Dawlish asked.

"Raised voices," Russ said. "And spells being fired. I got the notice about curses being fired shortly after I arrived at Ward 3."

"Why didn't you raise an alert yourself?" Dawlish asked. "When you heard raised voices, I mean?"

"I thought it was better to act first and speak later, sir. I didn't want to be too late to help if there was a situation going on. It turns out I was too late anyway."

"Who got there next?" Dawlish asked.

"Jones and Knight were first after me," Robinson said. "They got there soon after the alert went out. Thompson and Jackson got there about 30 seconds later, and Potter was last."

"All right," Dawlish asked. "Thank you, Robinson. I think that's it for now, but let me know if you recall anything else."

"Yes sir," Russ said, getting up to leave.

Outside the office, he passed Simon Thompson, who was getting ready to go in himself.

"Have fun," Russ said sarcastically.

Thompson smiled grimly. "Always do."

---------------

Harry finally entered his flat at 6 p.m. Saturday evening, tired to the bone from his day. He'd spent the previous hour being grilled by Dawlish about what had happened that morning, and right now he just wanted to take a shower and then sleep for the next day and a half. Maybe when he woke up he would find out that this had all been a dream, that Ron had never gone missing at all. But he knew that was wishful thinking. There was never any good news in his life.

He still saw their faces sometimes … the people who had died for him. Sirius and Dumbledore, Moody, Fred, Lupin and Tonks.

And his parents … he saw their faces most of all. He hated that they had all died while he had lived. He still blamed himself for their deaths, and he hated to think how he would feel if he had to add Ron's name to the list. He'd lost his biggest mentor and three father figures; he didn't know what he would do if he lost his brother.

And Hermione … Harry hated that he had to be the one who broke the news to her. He hadn't known what to do, or how to comfort her. The entire time, he'd stared at her -- the woman he loved -- with a heavy heart.

Harry walked aimlessly toward the bathroom, stopping by his bedroom to grab a towel first. He spotted a letter from Luna lying on his pillow; Apollo, his new owl, must have delivered it while he was gone. He didn't really feel like reading it now, though.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and put his head in his hands. _Oh, Ron, _he thought. _I'm so sorry. _He felt his emotions begin to bubble to the surface; he'd been holding them back all day, but now he let them come.

When the tears came, they came in the form of sobs that wracked his body and that continued for quite some time.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry said again, this time out loud. "I'm so sorry."

---------------

"Why, hello there, Helbert."

Dawlish stopped, annoyed, in the doorway to the Ministry of Magic interrogation room. He looked at the man who had spoken, who was currently sitting at the table, waiting to be questioned. "It's Henry," Dawlish said through gritted teeth.

The man at the table smiled, revealing two rows of gleaming white teeth. "Oh, come on, Helbert," said Roy Henderson, standing up from the table and inclining his head toward Dawlish. "You may go by your nickname around others, but you can't fool me. I know your real first name -- we went to school together, remember?"

"I remember," Dawlish said. "How could I forget?"

"Aww," Henderson said in a patronizing tone. "Did I make that much of an impression?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Dawlish snapped. "I never cared about you."

"All evidence to the contrary," Henderson said. He grinned again.

"Sit down," Dawlish said. "We have some questions for you."

Henderson obliged, raising his perfectly groomed eyebrows at Dawlish as he did so. "I assume this has something to do with that Auror who disappeared from my woods this morning. That is why your team of Aurors burst into my house an hour ago to bring me down here, correct?"

"You seem to know a lot about it," Dawlish said.

"Of course I do," Henderson said. "It happened on my property, after all. What do you think I am, an idiot? I know about your 24-hour surveillance, too. Would you like to ask me about that too?"

Dawlish ignored the last comment. "So what do you know about the disappearance?"

Henderson shrugged. "Only that it happened. And that it was Weasley. And that I didn't do it, even though you think I did. That's pretty much the extent of my knowledge on the matter."

"Is that so?" Dawlish asked. "Well, then … would you mind telling me where you were at six o'clock this morning?"

The suspect shrugged again. "I wasn't home. Your Aurors who were watching the house could probably tell you that. I left at eight o'clock Friday night and didn't get back until this afternoon."

"That's not telling me where you were," Dawlish said.

"I was sleeping," Henderson said with yet another shrug, his eyes wide with mock innocence. "That's what most people do at six o'clock in the morning, isn't it? I was at my girlfriend's house, sleeping."

"And there's someone who can verify this for you?"

"Sure," Henderson said. "My girlfriend. She was sleeping too. Or you could give me Veritaserum if you'd like. But I guarantee you my answer will keep coming up the same."

"So do you have any idea who it could have been?" Dawlish asked.

"What am I, a tip service now?" Henderson asked. "No, I have no idea. Don't really care, either. Whoever did it doesn't really know what they're doing."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean?" Henderson said. "Weasley's a nothing; he's a waste of time. Any intelligent person would have gone after Potter."

Now it was Dawlish's turn to shrug. "Maybe that's what they're doing. Potter and Weasley are close, after all."

Henderson smirked. "There's someone better they could have gone after, then. Someone who Potter cares for more."

---------------

When Ron Weasley finally woke up, he had three major thoughts.

One, he was incredibly hungry; he felt like he hadn't eaten in months. Two, this place -- whatever this place was -- smelled awful. And three, he had an awful pain in his head.

He winced, rubbing his head with his right hand, which he now noticed was chained to the wall. He attempted to remember what had happened to him -- how he had ended up in this predicament.

He remembered bits and pieces. He had been incredibly bored while spying on Henderson's mansion, not to mention extremely annoyed thanks to his irritating partner. But someone had snuck up on them and attacked them. He remembered seeing a flash of red light, but nothing after that. _Stunning Spell, _Ron thought. _They got me first. But what about Brittany?_

Ron looked around but didn't see Brittany or anyone else in the 8-by-10 room where he was currently stationed. Ron wondered what time it was. It was dark in the cell, but that didn't mean anything because there was no window. It could have been daylight and he wouldn't have known the difference.

Ron wondered how much time had passed since he had gone missing. Hermione probably knew by now; that thought was enough to make him pause. _Hopefully Harry or someone is there for her_, he thought. _I don't want her to be alone right now. _

Then his thoughts turned to Harry. His best friend was probably blaming himself for this; that was his personality, after all. Ron didn't blame Harry, of course; he blamed himself … and the wanker who had decided to kidnap him.

Ron coughed, feeling extremely thirsty. _Maybe someone's out there, _he thought. _Someone who can give me water._ Ron didn't even care if it was his jailer; he just wanted something to drink, preferably if it came with food as well.

"Hello?" Ron called, his voice coming out raspy. He cleared his throat. "Hello? Not to trouble the evil mastermind who decided to kidnap me, whoever you are, but I'd like something to drink. That's a fair trade, right? You get to kidnap me, and I get some water?"

Silence. Ron sighed, then tried again.

"I mean, I think it's a reasonable request," he said. "All I'm asking for is some water."

The door swung open. Ron squinted, but couldn't make out the figure who stood in the doorway.

"And all I'm asking for," said the voice of the unknown person, "is for some peace and quiet. I've got your bloody water, and you'll get it if you promise to shut up."

"I promise," Ron said.

"Good." The figure stepped forward into the miniscule amount of light in the cell.

Ron recognized him right away, letting out a very un-manly gasp at the sight of his captor. He pointed his chained right hand at the man.

"You!" he said.

Roy Henderson's face was glaring down at him.

**A/N: Some of you are no doubt wondering how Henderson could be in two places at once. You'll find out the answer next chapter.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review; I really appreciate every one I get. **


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